


Love and Sociopathic Tendencies

by kijilinn



Series: Love and Sociopathic Tendencies [1]
Category: The Good Wife (TV)
Genre: Character Development, Coffee Shops, Condoms, F/M, First Dates, Flirting, Greek Orthodox, Hair Pulling, Librarians, Libraries, Mild D/s, Oral Sex, Private Investigator, Relationship Development, Religion, Research, hook ups
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-13 23:52:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7990903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kijilinn/pseuds/kijilinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One reference librarian, one private investigator. A dash of dysfunction. What could possibly go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Oh, he’s cute.” 

I glanced up from my computer at Liz’s words. The shelver had paused next to my desk and was gazing as nonchalantly as she could manage toward someone standing near the front stacks. “Which one?”

“Tall, dark, and scruffy.”

I ruled out the older man browsing sports biographies and the younger woman reading the inside copy of a travel novel. Working in a library was never boring. Not really, anyway. Finally, my eyes picked out who Liz had been talking about, a tall man with a stocking cap pulled down over his ears. Dark framed glasses had slid halfway down his nose and he was examining the books over the rims. “A little old.”

“Oh, hush,” she whispered and flapped a hand at me. “Let me dream.”

He was extraordinarily handsome, well-proportioned and standing with a relaxed curve of his spine to make him seem not quite so tall, his hands jammed deep into the pockets of his dark jeans. As I considered him, I realized that the mostly grey beard was actually hiding a face younger than the color would have hinted. I leaned forward a little and studied him. “He is cute.” I shot Liz a glance and grinned. She was all but drooling, so I cleared my throat politely. She jumped, blushed, and dashed off to get another cart of books to reshelve. 

I checked books out to Mr. Sports Star and a couple other patrons before I happened to check near the front stacks and noticed with a little flash of disappointment that he was gone. I sighed to myself and returned to the research I’d been working on before. Several pages into the ethnic diversity of 1800s Texas, someone moved in my peripheral vision and I looked up with my professional smile, “Can I help you?”

“I sure hope so.” His voice had a dark rumble and I felt my customer service smile slip into something a little more comfortable. It was Liz’s “boyfriend.” He smiled back at me and showed dark dimples through the beard. Okay, he’d gone from “cute” to “stunning” in no time flat. “I’m looking for the microfiche? I need some Tribune clips from 1978.” 

“Oh, they moved the machine,” I said quickly and stood up. “It’s over here now.” I lead him through the stacks and tried not to notice how easily he kept up with my short strides. He was even taller than I’d thought at first. “Here it is.” I waved a hand to where the microfiche machine had been moved about two weeks previous. “If you need anything, let me know.”

He paused, still watching me with that smile. “I will.” That smile was unnerving. I could feel a blush already rising on my cheeks before he nodded once and added, “Thank you.”

“Happy to help,” I managed to squeak out in answer before smiling and walking back to the desk. I sat at the desk and put my hands on the keyboard, but didn’t do anything for a moment, bemused. A moment later, Liz returned to bump my shoulder and raise her eyebrows. I looked up at her and mouthed “OH MY GOD” without making a sound and she smothered a laugh. 

We got a decent crop of good-looking people wandering through the library, but this was definitely an exception. Most of our patrons were elderly retirees looking for fluffy romances or westerns, or high school kids desperate for help on a research paper. Anyone in between was usually fairly average-looking or painfully rude. Or both.

It took me a little while to get back into the swing of my research request, but once I had picked up the thread again, I let the encounter fade into the back of my mind. I finished the request and emailed the results to the patron, then picked up another one. I waited on a few patrons looking for specific materials, placed a few holds, then returned to research. 

“Son of a bitch.” That same voice wandered over to me at the desk and I raised my eyebrows, looking back toward the microfiche machine. It was standing empty, but I could see the edge of the man’s coat near the printer. The ancient printer. 

“Paper jam,” I sighed and went to get the keys for the printer. “Rescue’s on its way,” I told him as I approached and he looked up with another of those smiles. “Thing’s older than I am.” Without looking for a reaction, I unlocked the inner workings of the printer and flipped open the tray, unlatched the drum and pulled it free to rest on one end on the floor. I spotted the errant paper immediately and squirmed my hand into the warm machine to grab it. It took a little slow, steady pulling, but I managed to work it out and reinserted the drum before closing the machine back up again. As soon as my key turned to lock it again, the machine beeped approvingly and began printing. “All better,” I said and looked up at him.

It was a long way up.

He was smiling at me with an expression that I couldn’t quite place. Amusement? Confusion? Whatever it was, he seemed to be enjoying it. He paused and cleared his throat before offering me a hand in standing up. “Again, thank you. They seem to be making librarians prettier than when I was in school.”

I felt my eyebrow twitch and my face flushed. “Nice of you to say,” I said. “Anything else I can help you with?”

“Nope,” he replied. I could tell I’d stubbed his pride a little. Poor baby. “But thank you again.”

I nodded to him and returned to my desk. I felt moderately bad turning down the compliment. I didn’t get them often, after all. But if he was trying to flirt while I was at work, I just felt more irritated than flattered, no matter how cute he was. After another half hour or so of working on research questions, a dark shape moved back into my field of vision and I looked up. Yup, he was back. He was carrying a few books and had his library card on top. “I’m sorry if I came off too forward,” he said quietly as he set the pile in front of me. “That was rude.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate that.” I scanned his library card and checked out the books before printing him a receipt. “Did you find everything okay?”

He nodded, “The articles were there and once you fixed the printer, I was all set. I do appreciate the help.”

“It’s why I’m here,” I smiled.

He shifted a little awkwardly and I sighed, doing my best to keep it inside. “I know it was rude and it is rude. Which is why I’m not going to ask for your number.” He put a business card down and pushed it so it was almost exactly half-way across the counter. “This is my card. I’d like to take you out for a drink sometime. And if you’re not interested, I totally understand.” He looked almost sheepish when he smiled at me this time. “But if you’re interested. The offer’s there.”

I looked at the card, then back up at him and felt a curl of a smile fighting to pull on my mouth. “I appreciate it.”

He offered his hand, “I’m Jason.”

“Hilde.” I took his hand and shook it. When he released me, I pulled the card to me and looked at it. “It was nice to meet you, Jason.”

“You, too.” He smiled again, then nodded and slipped out front.

 

“Jason Crouse, private investigator.” Liz leaned on my shoulder and studied the card. 

“He managed to be both charming and rude all at once,” I admitted. “It was sort of fascinating in its own right.”

“So, you’re going to call him, right?”

I looked up at her and made a face. “Liz.”

“What?” she protested, her hands up defensively. “He didn’t ask me out for drinks. I’m living vicariously.”

I chuckled and shook my head. “Yeah, no.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t drink.”

“Bullshit you don’t drink,” laughed Rachel from the other side of the workroom. 

“I don’t think they serve wine where he’s talking about getting drinks.” I was blushing and couldn’t stop. 

“You could suggest getting coffee,” Liz said. “It doesn’t have to be alcoholic.”

I dropped my head against the back of my chair, “You guys! I don’t even know if this is a good idea.”

“Of course it’s a good idea.” Liz lightly tapped a picture book against my forehead. “He’s hot and he asked to take you out. What could go wrong?”

“He asked me at work,” I replied. “Which means he automatically knows how to find me if the date goes south. He could be the stalker type of investigator and then I’d probably have to quit and find another job.”

“Damn, girl,” she sighed, “you paranoid.”

“And you wonder why I’m still single.”

“Actually, I’ve never wondered that.”

“Thanks.” I sighed and rubbed my hands over my face. “Maybe. Maybe I’ll call him. If I can keep my hands from shaking long enough to dial.”

“I’ll dial for you,” Liz said cheerfully.

“You guys are trying to get me killed,” I whined and swatted at her with both hands. 

Liz cackled and tapped her fingers together like a supervillain. “You have seen my ultimate plan.” I laughed at her and she grinned, “No, seriously, Hilde. You should call him. It could be fun.”

“And when’s the last time you had fun?” Rachel added.

“Nobody asked you,” I grumbled. “I have plenty of fun!”

“At home watching Netflix. Under a cat.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.” 

“No,” Rachel agreed, spinning her chair to face me. “But it really wouldn’t kill you to go out and have fun occasionally. Especially if someone is asking. Try it. You can keep us updated. Live blog it.”

“Oh, hell.” I put my head in my hands. “I’m not live-blogging a first date.”

“Wait to the second one, then.” Liz was beaming.

I groaned and checked the clock. “I’m back on the desk. I’ll think about it. No promises, you guys.” I hauled myself to my feet and returned to the reference desk for the afternoon shift.

 

At home that evening, I sprawled onto my couch in my pajamas, pulled a blanket over my lap and powered up my PS3. It was a Netflix night. Every night was a Netflix night. Nefret, my dark torbie overlord was perched on the back of the couch, purring. As I settled into an episode of “Supernatural” that I’d seen about eight times, I sipped at my glass of wine and finally let myself relax. This was where I was really happiest: in my apartment, alone with my cat. Nefret lashed her tail against the top of my head and I smiled.

My phone buzzed with a text. I sighed and reached over my head to retrieve it from the arm of the couch. 

“CALL HIM.” It was Lana, another of the staff who worked the circulation desk at the library.

“What the hell?”

“CALL HIM.”

“Call who?”

“Tall dark and investigy.”

“Who told you?”

“Rachel.”

I groaned and rubbed my forehead. “I’m in my pajamas,” I texted back.

“I don’t care if you’re naked,” she replied. “Call him.”

“I sound desperate if I do it tonight.”

“You’re wearing your pajamas at 7:30 PM. You are desperate. Call him.”

“I can’t, I have the cat.”

“You can text, you can call.”

“You didn’t see him. Way out of my league.”

“He asked you out. He doesn’t think so.”

I stared at the screen for a second and sighed. I was running out of excuses. “I don’t know anything about him.”

“His name is Jason Crouse, he’s a private investigator. Used to be a lawyer in New Jersey, was disbarred for punching out a judge. He’s 48 years old and an Aries.”

“WTF, Lana?”

“Google.”

“He punched out a judge?”

“According to Google.”

“This is what I get for being friends with librarians.”

“Yup.”

I sighed dramatically and dropped my head against the arm of the couch again. I wanted to call. I did. It was just more than intimidating. It was terrifying. I had trouble walking down a grocery aisle with five people in it, let alone considering going on a date. I hadn’t been on a date in… rather a long time.

“CALL HIM.” 

“Stop texting me and I will.” I closed my eyes and Nefret slapped her tail against the side of my face again. I took a deep breath and waited five full minutes. When no more texts from Lana arrived, I floundered Jason’s card out of my purse and stared at the number for a few minutes. “What the hell am I doing?” I asked myself, then stumbled my shaking fingers over the number pad until I’d dialed the number from the card.

It rang twice, then picked up and his warm bass rumbled in my ear, “Jason Crouse.”

Actually hearing his voice made my whole brain lock up and I made a nervous clicking sound in my throat for a second. Before I could finish ruining the phone call, I managed to force myself to say, “Hey, yeah. Um. This is Hilde. From the library?”

I could almost hear him smiling. “Yeah, hi. You called.”

“I did.” I chewed my lip stupidly for a second, then looked up to see the cat glaring at me. “So… about drinks?”

“Interested?”

“I called, didn’t I?” I was blushing so hard that I was suddenly very grateful we were on the phone and not face-to-face. “Thing is… I don’t really do drinks. I’m an utter lightweight and not much fun when I have a paranoid break in public.” I heard him chuckle and knew he didn’t think it was a literal thing. Oh, the things he had yet to learn. “Do you drink coffee?”

“Last time my blood was typed, I think I came out espresso positive.” 

I grinned down into my lap for a second. Yeah, I liked this guy. “Oh, you have the gift,” I sighed. “Pitch me that again in about half an hour and I might manage something witty in response. Right now, I can just giggle and blush.” He chuckled in my ear. “So, when are you free?”

“Half an hour?”

Something in my brain made a small “glip” sound and I blinked. “Tonight?”

“Unless you’d rather wait for coffee until tomorrow. Me, I’m always up for coffee.” His voice was warm and gentle. 

“It’s kind of late for coffee for me,” I said in a small voice. “If I drink any this late, I’ll never sleep. Tomorrow afternoon?”

“That sounds good.” He paused and I just listened for a moment. “Do you have a favorite place? And if you say Starbucks, I’m hanging up.”

“I usually go to Panera,” I admitted sheepishly. “But Cafe Bob is good.”

“I’ve got better. Have you tried Big Shoulders?” 

I tried not to laugh. I really did. I chewed my lip really hard and managed to squeak out, “I have not.”

“I can hear you, you know.”

“It’s not my fault!” I gasped and started to laugh. 

“I agree.” But he was smiling again and the sound of his voice made me warm all over. “Let me try this again. Have you tried the coffee shop called ‘Big Shoulders’ on the Loop?”

“I have not,” I repeated, more soberly this time.

“Perfect. Can I pick you up or would you rather drive yourself?”

I was impressed. In spite of the borderline stalker-esque behavior of this afternoon, he was acknowledging my autonomy. “I’ll meet you there. Time?”

“Ten o’clock? I’ve got a few early meetings.”

“I’m off tomorrow. Ten should be fine.” I found myself smiling into the phone. Nefret gave me an unimpressed tail swat. 

“I’ll look forward to it.” He paused for a moment and I couldn’t get the smile off my face. “I meant what I said back there,” he added quietly. “It wasn’t just talk. You’re much prettier than I expected.”

“Flatterer,” I grinned. “You’re not bad yourself.”

“Thank you.” Every part of my brain felt overloaded with delight and it took me a second to calm down enough to hear his words. “Tomorrow at ten. Have a good night, Hilde.”

“You, too, Jason.”

As I hung up, I checked and was amused to find a string of texts from Lana. “Did you call him?” “omg, you’re calling him.” “Text me back!” “Hilde, talk to me!” “What’s happening!?” “The world must know!”

I snuggled deeper into my blanket and texted to her, “I called him.”

“I thought you died.”

“I’m not dead.”

“Oh good.”

I chuckled and shook my head. “Thanks.”

“What did he say?”

“We’re getting coffee tomorrow.”

There was an astonishingly long pause and I almost gave up to put the phone down and return to my Netflix when it buzzed again with a drawn out “WHOOOOOHOOOOOOOO!!” 

“You’re a nut.”

“You’ve got a date. I think I’m allowed.”

“My popcorn got cold,” I complained. “I’ma go. Good night.”

“LIVE BLOG THE DATE.

“I’m not live blogging the date, Lana.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“PLEASE.”

“Good night.”

“Night.”


	2. Chapter 2

At 9:30 the next morning, I found myself standing in line at Big Shoulders Cafe. My anxiety had woken me up before the cat had a chance to and driven me right out of the house. I could barely stand to hold still in the line. I was moderately proud of myself for having gotten dressed before I left. I was glad I’d gotten a run in before coming; it had burned off some of the adrenaline.

I felt something warm near my shoulder, a body in my space and I looked up to see Jason studying the menu beside me. “You’re early,” he said without making eye contact. He was smiling, though and I blushed.

“I’m not good at delaying gratification,” I admitted with a small smile. “Or holding still.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” His face was impassive, but there was a smile in his voice that made me blush even brighter. “I’m glad to see you.”

“You didn’t think I’d show?”

His shoulders lifted in a slow shrug before he tilted his head to look down at me and smile. “You sounded a little spooked last night.”

I chewed the inside of my lip and grinned back up at him, embarrassed. “I’m always a little spooked. It’s my default state.” I stepped up to the cashier to make my order. “Mocha with raspberry and mint, please. And whatever he’s getting.” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder at Jason.

He was silent a moment and I looked back up at him, feeling smug. I’d surprised him. After he twitched one eyebrow upwards briefly, he ordered a French pressed dark roast. “I am capable of paying,” he informed me as I handed my debit card to the cashier.

“I figured.” The cashier handed me my card and I tucked it away again before giving him a sly grin, “You can get the next one.”

“The next one, huh?” Jason smiled and I tried not to dance in delight. He was adorable and the last thing I needed was to betray how happy his smile made me. “Maybe I should be afraid of you.”

“Mister big-shot investigator is scared of the lumpy librarian and her debit card,” I snickered. “I’m just so intimidating.” I took my mocha from the barista and Jason collected his coffee. I took a sip of the coffee and sighed with my eyes closed. “Okay, you were right. This place is awesome.”

Jason shrugged and grinned, then edged over to a table. “Here good?”

I stared at the table for a second, then looked at him nervously. “This is going to sound weird. But do you mind walking instead? I think better when I’m moving and sitting still really does make me nervous.”

He raised his eyebrows, but nodded. “Sure.” Once we were moving down the busy sidewalk, Jason tilted his head to study me and said, “You really are a little twitchy, aren’t you?”

“All cards on the table?” I gave him an apologetic smile, “It’s a condition. Social anxiety disorder. I’m on meds, which makes it easier to actually go to work and get shit done. Otherwise, I’m a basket case and can’t even leave my apartment.”

He walked beside me in silence for a while and I started to wonder if maybe I should have kept that particular card closer to the vest for a little longer. But, better to have it out there. “How are you with phone calls?”

I blinked and glanced up at him. He wasn’t looking at me, but seemed to be considering something. “Shitty,” I admitted. “My hands shake trying to dial and I usually avoid them when I can. I’d rather text or email.”

“I wondered about that.” He smiled at me. “I thought it was a bad connection at first.”

“Yeah, between my brain and my mouth,” I grinned.

“But you still called.”

Something fluttered in my chest and I swallowed hard, taking another drink of coffee to hide my own reaction. “Yup.”

Jason was quiet for a second, then he asked, “Why?”

I looked at him in surprise and chuckled, “Have you looked in the mirror recently?” To my great delight and amusement, he actually blushed. “A guy like you gives a girl like me his number, she’s an idiot not to call. As my coworkers kept reminding me. All night.”

“So it was peer pressure,” Jason said. His tone was both teasing and a little relieved.

“If I didn’t, I was going to hear about it for weeks.” I shrugged. “I probably still will. It’s a novelty.”

“Librarians don’t get out much?”

I snorted, “No, just me. I don’t get out much.” I glanced up at him and he smiled, showing those damnable dimples again. I worked my tongue against my back teeth for a second. There was nothing stuck there, but the sensation was comforting. “What about you? What could have possibly possessed you to give your number to Velma the Librarian?” I pulled my glasses down and squinted at him, utterly unable to see any details.

Jason chuckled and shook his head. “I believe I told you. Twice now. And I’m glad I did.”

He was enjoying this? I pushed my glasses back up and blinked. “Really?”

“Hell yes. You’re a trip.”

“Good trip? Bad trip? Acid trip?”

He considered, then grinned. “Sort of like the trip you go on when you’ve had too much coffee and not enough food.” He glanced down at me. “Fun but a little dizzying.”

I could feel the blush creeping up my cheeks as I watched his face, looking for any indication that he was laughing _at_ me. He didn’t seem to be. I wasn’t used to that. “I can do food,” I found myself saying.

“Yeah?”

I nodded. “I make a good pizza.”

“Chicago pizza or real pizza?”

I laughed. “I knew you weren’t from around here.” I bounced off his arm cheerfully, then paused, surprised at my own familiarity. He just grinned. “So where _are_ you from?”

“New Jersey, originally.” He shrugged, then tilted his head to study me. “You?”

“Michigan. Above the bridge.”

“So, Mackinaw area?”

I snickered and shook my head, “Farther North, you poor troll. Marquette, Ishpeming.”

“So you’re a Yooper.”

I stopped dead in my tracks and looked up at him, stunned. “I could kiss you.”

His lips curled in an amused smile. “Oh, yeah?”

I shook my head and blushed. “I mean…” I chewed my lip and peeked up at him sheepishly. “Yeah, actually. Freudian slip, I guess. I was kidding, but…  yeah. It’s just that nobody down here knows that term. We’re in the dictionary and still nobody knows what a Yooper is.”

Jason shook his head and grinned. “I’ve been there.” We started walking again and I noticed that he let his elbow bump against me, walking a little closer. “The Soo is nice in the summer.”

“I’ve actually never been in the summer,” I admitted with a smile. “I’m from Iron Mountain originally. Went to school in Marquette.” Maybe it was talking about home or maybe it was the company, but I could actually feel something releasing in my spine, a tightness that was fading. “What about you?”

“Jersey was home,” he said quietly. “Long time ago. Now, I go where there’s work.” He shrugged and smiled. “Chicago’s good for that.”

“You’re a private investigator, right?” He nodded. “What does that mean, exactly?”

He looked down and grinned. “What?”

“No, I’m serious.” I found myself blushing. Again, or still. It was hard to tell anymore. “I mean, you read about detectives in stuff like Dashiel Hammett, but that doesn’t really tell you what private investigators do now. Not really.”

Jason shrugged and his arm brushed mine when he did it. We were steadily walking closer together the longer we walked. I didn’t mind and he didn’t seem to, either. “People ask me to find information. Usually on other people or on businesses. Since I’m freelance, I usually charge by the hour. Some places, like big law firms, will have an investigator on site or on retainer. I’m not quite that big.”

I thought about that for a while, then smiled. “So… you do for hourly pay what I do in more general terms at work. Only with more interviewing, I would imagine.”

“And fewer books and misbehaving copy machines.”

“I recall a misbehaving copy machine in your line of work not that long ago.”

“Yes, but I needed a librarian to fix it.”

We walked quietly and I considered. “Well,” I finally said with a sigh. “If you need someone to do research and you’ve got your hands full, you have my number.”

He blinked at me and seemed surprised. “Seriously?”

I shrugged and grinned. “It’s my job, Jason. And I like doing it. Doesn’t matter to me if I’m working or not. I’ll be happy to look shit up if you need me to.”

“Thank you.” He considered, then nodded and smiled. “I’ll remember that.”

* * *

 

We wandered together like that for almost an hour. Well past the point when our coffee had gone cold. He insisted on stopping for more when we passed another coffee shop and he paid this time, his jaw set stubbornly but his eyes alight with amusement. It wasn’t as good as Big Shoulders, but it was still good and hot.

Around 11, his phone rang and Jason winced, pulling it out to check the ID. “Shit. I should take this. Wait right here and I’ll be back.” He stepped away and answered the phone.

I stood where he’d left me, sipping my coffee and thinking. He was razor sharp. We’d kept most of our conversation light, but the few times we’d wandered into more serious subjects, he’s shown himself to be almost embarrassingly intelligent and observant. I supposed that made sense for an investigator. And funny. God, he was funny. At least twice, I’d almost spit out my coffee at one of his calmly deadpan jokes. The dry wit and sparkling smile were enough to keep me grinning just thinking about him. Not to mention the bearded dimples and those dark hazel eyes that were driving me crazy. I hoped he was having even half as much fun as I was.

“Hilde,” he said quietly and I looked up out of my thoughts. Hearing him say my name was a surprising pleasure on its own. “I’m sorry. I have to go.” He sounded genuinely sorry and I smiled at him. “I… really enjoyed this. Can I call you?”

My throat locked up for a second and I kept the smile frozen until I could clear it and speak again. “You can, but I won’t answer. I never answer.” His expression was wary, so I pushed on. “Text me. You can text me. Trying to answer the phone triggers the anxiety.”

“Ah.” He nodded understanding, then smiled hopefully. “So _can_ I… text you?”

“You can and you may.” I grinned.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Hilde.” He offered me a hand.

I studied his hand for a minute, then looked up into his face. “Could I get a hug?” I asked sheepishly. “If you’re not cool with it, that’s totally okay. But I’m a hugger.”

Jason grinned and held out both hands, “I can do that.” He wrapped me in a hug when I stepped closer to him and we both exhaled like someone had sprung us full of holes. He held me for a second longer than I think either of us expected and actually dropped his chin to the top of my head. “Okay, that’s nice,” he whispered.

“Yup,” I agreed. “You give good hugs.”

He laughed softly and let me go. “That is not something I’ve heard on a first date before.” His phone buzzed with a text and he rolled his eyes. “And as much as I’d like to stay, I really do need to go. I’ll text you.”

“Looking forward to it,” I smiled at him. He grinned and waved before heading off down the street, his phone already out to check the text. I watched him go and then found a bench to sit down on. I dropped my forehead to my knees and let out a long, embarrassed, semi-hysterical giggle.

This was going to be fun.


	3. Chapter 3

I returned home. 

I texted Lana. I texted Rachel and Liz.

I fed Nefret. 

I felt dizzy with delight. Jason was funny. He was intelligent. I felt safe with him. And he seemed to like me. The idea that all of those things could also coincide with someone as handsome and charismatic as this particular person was just incredible to me. 

I finally flopped down on the couch and just stared at the blank television until the cat came to sit on my stomach and stare into my face. “He’s adorable, kitty,” I informed her. She blinked, then flicked her tail, obviously unimpressed. I reached up and rubbed the sides of her face until she started to purr. “I’m in so much trouble.”

Lana texted:  _ So it went well? _

_ Yes. _

_ How well? _

_ He asked to call me. _

_ OMG _

_ I said he could text me.  _

_ You’re such a spaz. _

_ I am not. Answering the phone just terrifies me. And if he wants to talk to me, he can text me. It’s much more reliable. _

_ So you like him. _

_ What’s not to like? _

_ I dunno. You’re the one who had the date. _

_ I still don’t know much about him. But he’s cute and he’s funny and he gave me a hug when I asked for one. He gives good hugs. _

_ Then it must be love. _

_ Shut up. _

I covered my face with a pillow and screamed into it. I felt about fifteen years old instead of more than twice that. I kicked my feet and giggled, then picked up my phone again and sighed, still hugging the throw pillow to my chest. _ I feel like an idiot. _

_ That’s nothing new. _

_ Meanie. _

_ You didn’t live blog. _

_ I told you I wouldn’t. _

_ Who’s the meanie? _

_ You are. Meanie. _

The conversation deteriorated into our usual name calling and I gave up after a while with a grin. Lana would always beat me in the creativity category for name calling. I texted with my friends for a while, then set the phone aside and went to make something for dinner, my cat twined around my legs. 

When I picked up the phone again, there was one missed call and two new texts, all from Jason. He hadn’t left a voicemail, but the texts read  _ Oops. My bad, _ and  _ Sorry, hit the wrong button. Meant to text. _

_ I forgive you _ , I texted back with a grin.

_ Thank you _ . There was a pause and I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I left the phone where it was and finished washing the dishes.  _ I was wondering about something _ , he had texted when I returned. 

_ About what? _

_ You said you like pizza? _

I considered, then grinned.  _ Did Romeo like Juliet? Did Pooh like honey? Do creepy assholes like Lolita? I have an obsession with pizza. I have a visceral, semi-sexual lust for pizza. _ I paused, wondered if I was going to be embarrassed about this later. Probably. I sent it anyway. And added,  _ Yes. I like pizza. _

_ I think I see why you like texting. _

I threw my head back against the arm of my couch and giggled helplessly into the pillow again. Yeah, I was going to be embarrassed about that text later. I was embarrassed about it now, but it was still fun.  _ Only thing I like better than eating it is making it _ .

_ The only thing? _

I chewed my bottom lip on a grin, feeling a blush rising on my cheeks again. Damn him.  _ The only thing pizza related I like better. _

_ If pizza brings out that kind of passion, I think I’d better arrange to try yours. _

Still blushing, I texted back,  _ Are you busy tomorrow night? _

_ I am. Sorry. _ Disappointed, I sank back into the couch, trying to think of another evening to suggest.  _ How about Monday? _

I thought about it while Nefret walked back and forth across the top of my head. I usually worked until dinner time most days, but if I prepped the pizza crust ahead of time, it could be ready for a reasonable late dinner. Assuming work wasn’t an absolute hellish mess, I might even be up for company on a Monday night.  _ Work days are rough. If you don’t mind me all limp from dealing with people all day, you’re welcome to come for pizza. _ It occurred to me that I must really like this guy. I was inviting him into my solo space after a work day. And I was cooking.

_ I’m comfortable anywhere. Will you be okay? _

He was sweet. Shit. I was so screwed.  _ I think so. It depends on the day. Call it a tentative yes? And if not, I’ll text you early to reschedule? _

_ You’re really gung-ho about pizza. _

“No,” I muttered sheepishly and the cat sniffed at the top of my head. “I’m kind of gung-ho about you.”  _ You really want to see gung-ho, bring me wine and a movie, too _ .

_ Demanding.  _

_ I just know what I like. _

_ Preference on wine? _

_ Red. I’m partial to chambourcin or merlot, but cab sav, shiraz, or malbec work, too.  _

_ I think I know at least one of those words. _

I grinned to myself, then reached up to pet the cat, since she was starting to wash my hair.  _ Red, _ I repeated.  _ Usually with notes of gunpowder, leather, graphite or other vaguely aggressively masculine descriptors.  _

_ You like your wine like you like your men? _

_ I like my men how I like my wine. _

_ Red? _

_ Vaguely aggressively masculine _ .

I blushed when I realized that I was actually getting turned on just by texting with him. I buried my face in the throw pillow with a groan. Nefret hopped down from her perch, walked across my chest and settled in my lap. I finally brought the phone up to where I could see it again. He hadn’t replied. I wondered if I’d pushed a little too hard with the flirting. Finally, my phone twitched with a response.

_ You are dangerous in text. _

My face flamed red and I bit my lip. I had apparently touched a nerve. In text, it was hard to tell if it was a good nerve or a bad one.  _ Sorry? _

_ Just wishing we weren’t on opposite ends of town, that’s all. _

_ How do you know we are? _

_ Guessing. _

_ So was that the good kind of dangerous or the bad kind? _

_ The kind that makes me curious about what other things you’re gung-ho about. _

_ Curious is good. _ I thought about it for a moment, then added,  _ You could come for lunch tomorrow. _

_ I’m not sure that’s a good idea. _

I chewed my lip, then typed quickly before I could lose my nerve.  _ You could come tonight. _ My thumb hovered over the send button and I stared at it for a second. Did I really want that? Hell yes. Was it a good idea? Probably not. It had just been a long ass time since I’d been this comfortable with a man. I wanted more of that. Reluctantly, I backspaced the text and considered.  _ Okay. Offer for Monday night’s still open, unless work is hell. _ It was a cooler response than I wanted to send, but couldn’t find another way to phrase it.

_ You okay? _

“Just trying to act like an adult instead of a teenager,” I grumbled to myself.  _ Embarrassed, that’s all. _

_ Why? _

I stared at the text. I debated pros and cons with myself. I wondered how honest I should be, how honest I wanted to be. “I’m tired of being good,” I sighed aloud. “I’m tired of being safe. I’m tired of being scared.”  _ I don’t want to wait until Monday night to see you again _ . I closed my eyes tightly and hit send.

I stayed like that, eyes tightly shut, barely daring to breathe until I felt my phone twitch with his reply. It took a long time. I was almost afraid to look. 

_ I don’t want to wait, either. _

I stared at the screen, breathless. I was shaking, but for once it wasn’t anxiety. I didn’t know what to reply, so I just stared. Dozens of phrases flashed through my head, things I could say, things that I shouldn’t say. 

Suddenly, my phone twitched with another text.  _ Ice cream. I have an unexplained surplus of ice cream. Save me. Or I’ll eat the whole thing by myself. _

I laughed and let my head drop back against the arm of the couch again.  _ What kind? _

_ What kind do you like? _

_ Anything with fudge. _

_ That. I have that. Please hurry. _

Blushing, I closed my eyes and grinned for a minute.  _ How do I get there? Or should I call 911? _

He sent me a screenshot of a map, dropping a pin on an address only about half a mile from my apartment.  _ Apartment 119.  _

_ I’ll be right there. Hang on, I’ll save you. _

I stood up and Nefret whined as she bounced to the floor. “Sorry, baby,” I told her softly. “Mama’s got business.”

 

I stood in front of Jason’s building, my shoulders shrugged up to my ears. It had gotten cool after the sun went down and I was grateful for my coat. I had been standing here for about ten minutes, not quite able to bring myself to press the buzzer. I hated the sound of them, but there was also the added nerves of my reason for coming. I stared up at the building, hugging myself. Did I really want to do this? Was this a good idea? Maybe I should just go home. 

Without really thinking about it, my hand darted out and pressed the call button for #119. 

“Hello?” Jason’s voice was distant over the intercom, but it still sparked in my chest and I smiled. 

“Ice cream rescue,” I replied, “answering an emergency call.”

“Oh good.” The light flashed and the door buzzed, allowing me access and I pushed myself inside. As I crept up the hallway, a door opened and Jason leaned out. His face was as calm and serious as if something was actually wrong and he looked at me as I stopped in front of him. “It’s a horrible situation, ma’am. An entire pint of fudge ice cream and only me to eat it. I don’t know how I’ll manage.”

“That’s why I’m here,” I said, trying to keep my face just as serious. “I just want to help.”

His smile cracked his face then and he reached one hand up to touch my cheek. “I knew I could count on you,” he whispered and I grinned back, letting him pull me closer. He drew me inside the apartment and leaned down to me, pausing without actually kissing me. “It is a very, very dire situation.”

I snorted at him and wound my arms around his neck, pulled him the last few inches down to me and kissed him. “You’re a tease.”

“Says the woman who seduced me in texts.” He grinned and hugged me closer before pushing the door to the hallway shut again. “Does this count as a second date? Or is it still the first?”

“You don’t look seduced to me,” I murmured. “Still clothed, still upright.” Jason chuckled and leaned down for my mouth again, but I turned my head quickly, grinning. “Wasn’t there an ice cream emergency to attend to?” 

He let out a soft groan that raised chills on my skin. “Can’t it wait?” he whispered. 

“You got me here with promises of ice cream,” I whispered back. “You better deliver.”

“I might have some whipped cream in a can,” he grinned. “I just want to kiss you.”

“Is that all?” I teased and stood on my toes to catch his mouth. His arms tightened around me and he kissed me with a slow sigh. I wound my arms around his shoulders and leaned up as much as I could, all the while cursing my short legs. The height difference made it so I felt like I just couldn’t get close enough to him.

“That is not all,” he growled at me and I giggled. “Damn, you’re literal.”

“And who poked me about making pizza being my favorite thing?”

“Fine,” he huffed and smiled at me. “So do you want to see the situation first or save it for later?”

“As long as there’s a later,” I murmured.

Jason smiled and stroked my face. I leaned into his hand and sighed quietly, soaking up the physical contact. “You act like you haven’t been touched in years,” he whispered softly. When my face flushed and I didn’t open my eyes, his thumb traced my jaw lightly. “You okay?”

“Hit a little close to home,” I admitted. I opened my eyes and looked up at him with a sheepish smile. 

“How close?” he asked, leaning down to brush his lips against mine.

I closed my eyes again and kissed him, savoring the feeling of his beard against my lips and his hands on my face. “Eight years,” I whispered back.

He twitched a little and leaned back to meet my eyes. “Seriously?” When I didn’t make eye contact, Jason sighed softly. “Okay, now I’m nervous.”

I blinked in surprise. “Why?”

He pursed his lips in a small smile and leaned down to kiss my forehead. “Stage fright. Come have some ice cream.” Before I could protest, he slipped his fingers through mine and tugged until I followed him through the apartment and into the kitchen. 

At a glance, the place looked about as tidy as mine, which is to say it looked like a college student lived there. The couch had a pair of jeans wadded at one end. DVDs were stacked beside the television haphazardly. A plate on the coffee table looked like it might have had spaghetti on it recently, but it was dried on now. I chuckled to myself and shook my head as he parked me next to the fridge and reached into the freezer. “What?”

“Your apartment looks like mine,” I replied. “Nicer furnishings, nicer building, but about the same level of living.”

He leaned back around the door to the freezer and handed me a pint of ice cream. “Really?” His eyes darted over the living room and he gave me a sideways grin. “I suppose I could have at least picked up the plate.”

“I stop seeing them after a few days,” I admitted, pulling the top off the pint and looking inside. I gave him a suspicious glare. “This ice cream has not been touched. It still looks soft. Did you manufacture an ice cream emergency just to get me down here?”

“No!” he cried defensively, then grinned and pulled a second pint out of the fridge. “But all I had was vanilla.” He put it back and pointed at my left hip. “Spoons are there.”

When I opened the drawer, not a single spoon matched and I laughed. “Are you afraid of living like an adult? Or is this intentional?” I picked two spoons out of the drawer and handed him one. 

Jason walked back past me, carrying the plate from the coffee table in one hand and the jeans over his shoulder. “Those two options are not mutually exclusive.” The plate clattered against other dishes in the sink and he pitched the jeans down the hallway before returning to the living room and flopping down onto the couch. “You’re not going to hog that whole carton, are you?”

I looked down at the ice cream and grinned before dropped down beside him on the couch and setting the lid on the coffee table. “Of course not. It’s your emergency.” I held the carton toward him so he could break the surface. 

His spoon dipped quickly into the ice cream and he grinned at me before he tasted it. “What happened eight years ago?”

I blushed and took a spoonful of the ice cream slowly. I watched the chocolate ice cream as it started to melt on the spoon, then stuck it quickly into my mouth. I held the carton so Jason could reach it and he took another scoop while waiting me to say something. Slowly, I shifted to take another bite. When I looked up, Jason was watching me with his spoon still in his mouth. I ducked my head again and addressed the ice cream. “My… husband died.”

The silence stretched. I couldn’t bring myself to look up, so I continued to stare at the ice cream. I watched Jason’s spoon scoop a little of the half-melted ice cream from the edge of the carton and then vanish out of my range of vision again. “I’m sorry,” he finally said in a soft voice. “I didn’t know you were married.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “You didn’t ask. I didn’t say.”

“Do you… want to talk?”

I stabbed at the ice cream and smiled quietly. “This didn’t exactly go the way I was hoping.”

I glanced up and saw that Jason was smiling. “Hoping?”

“Yeah,” I grinned and blushed, “hoping.”

His smile widened, then he leaned back against the arm of the couch and dropped one leg to the floor. “You look like you could use a hug.”

I closed my eyes and nodded, then wriggled across the couch to lean my back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around me and we both sighed again, that same full-body exhalation that we’d shared on the street. It continued to surprise me how safe I felt with him. His chin rested on my shoulder and I felt him reach with his spoon for the ice cream again. “Whatever you want to talk about,” he murmured quietly in my ear. 

“Can we… not? Right now?” 

Jason settled one arm around my waist and I heard him swallowing his ice cream. “Sure,” he whispered. “Whatever you want.”

I closed my eyes and just leaned against him. He ate ice cream around me. He just held me. After a few minutes, I took a deep breath and started talking. “I was married. Eleven years ago. He was killed in a car wreck. We… had been married not quite three years.” I tipped the ice cream carton towards myself and took a spoonful. It was already half empty. “I moved here because I couldn’t cope with being there. Looking at… everything that was ours. And his brothers all sound like him. It was like having dinner with a ghost once a week.” 

Jason’s arm around me tightened gently. “Why here?”

“The library had a job open. I interviewed, they offered.” I leaned my head back against his shoulder and sighed. “And it was closer to home.”

“Where was there?”

“Virginia.”

“That’s why you don’t sound like a Yooper.” I grinned. Jason leaned forward a little to catch another scoop of ice cream and I closed my eyes at the feeling of his beard against my neck. He paused, then turned his head very slightly, dragging his chin against my skin again. When I shivered, I felt his lips curl and then he kissed my cheek gently. “Doing okay?” 

“Yeah,” I said and smiled. “Yeah, I think so.” I took another spoon of ice cream and scraped bottom. “I’ve had time. A lot of time. To process, I mean. I miss him.”

“Eight years is a long time,” he said softly. 

“Yes and no.” I licked my spoon. 

“No second date in eight years?”

“I never said that.”

Jason’s lips brushed my cheek again and I closed my eyes. “You hug on the first date. Date one-point-five involves ice cream and potential sex. And you crave touch.” I could actually feel his voice rumbling through his chest and into my back. “You said you hadn’t been touched in eight years.”

“I didn’t say that,” I whispered back, breathless.

“You did.” His lips traveled slowly down my neck and I shivered again. “It’s hard to believe.” He paused and I could feel him smile. “Or did you mean something else?”

I turned my head quickly and caught his mouth with mine, pressed one hand to his cheek to hold him there. His hand settled against my back and he kissed me. I reluctantly pulled away long enough to whisper, “I meant something else.” 

“And what did you mean?” he murmured back with a slow grin. 

I gave him an irritated glance, then set the ice cream on the coffee table and shifted to face him. He leaned back to grin at me, but his hands came to rest on my sides, still holding me close. “I meant nobody’s touched me like they wanted to. I get hugs from friends, family, that kind of thing.” I shifted to slide my hands over his chest and around his shoulders. “But that’s different.”

“Nobody.” He gave me a thoughtful look. “You want me to believe that nobody’s wanted to touch you in eight years.” As he spoke, his hands crept up my sides, his thumbs slowly rolling circles against my sweater. 

My breath caught in my chest and I bit my lip hard, swaying closer. “Jason,” I whispered seriously. “I’m not lying. I haven’t been close to anyone in a long, long time. I’m shy. I’m anxious. I don’t go out for drinks. I stay home with my cat.” I opened my eyes and pegged him with a stare that made him blink. “Will you please kiss me? And stop teasing me about being all of the things I am?”

He held my gaze. When I didn’t look away, Jason leaned slowly forward and pressed his lips to mine, never breaking the eye contact. I finally groaned and melted into his arms. 

While the ice cream melted on the coffee table.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note: Chapter is NSFW and depicts graphic sex, condom usage, hair pulling, and very mild D/s play.

A phone rang and I shifted my head. It was a ring tone. Had I unmuted my phone? 

“Jason Crouse.”

I blinked and then smiled, letting my head flop back down to the pillow. Jason put one hand on my lower back and rubbed a circle there with his thumb while he listened. “Yeah. Yeah, Diane.” He shifted away and I heard a pen scratching on paper. I peeked up at him and watched the slope of his naked side, the angle of his arm as he scribbled. I smiled and slipped one hand over his hip. The pen skipped sideways and he glanced under his arm at me, expression amused. “I’ll get right on it.” He put the phone down and rolled onto his back to collect me closer. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay,” I murmured and settled against his chest. “Do you need to go?”

“Not yet,” Jason answered and worked one hand up into my hair. I leaned back against his hand and sighed happily. “Later.” His fingers curled against my scalp and I bit my lip on a moan. “Maybe much later.” I peeked at him and he was grinning at me, eyes half closed. 

“You work on Sundays?”

He tugged lightly on my hair and I surrendered, letting him push me back to the pillow. “Not usually,” he murmured as he kissed my neck. I wriggled and sighed in delight, felt him smile against my skin. “I take calls, say ‘right on it’ and mean on Monday.” His lips trailed lower and I shivered. “It’s close enough.”

“You still want that pizza?” I squirmed as he slipped one hand under my back and hugged me tightly against him. I hooked one leg around his hip and grinned when he growled quietly. “Or do you want to wait until Monday night still?”

“I haven’t had breakfast yet,” he murmured back. “Not even a cup of coffee.” He shifted his hips and I groaned. He was hard again. 

“Again?” I asked him in mock-irritation. “How much do you need anyway?”

“At least two cups a day,” he grinned. “I have a maintenance schedule.”

I grinned back at him and wriggled, watching his face in amusement when his eyes rolled back. “Get a filter and we’ll talk.”

“Done talking,” he murmured, his breath rushing on my skin. He shifted his hips and pushed against me.

“Nope, we’re not,” I replied and slid backwards, braced my knee against his hip and grinned. “Seriously, Jason.” 

He groaned and rolled over. “Slave driver.”

“I haven’t said no,” I snorted at him and leaned to kiss him. “Just use a condom. That’s all.” He opened one eye and squinted up at me. I grinned and kissed his mouth slowly. With a soft sigh, his hands slid up over my hips and guided me until I was straddling him. I shifted my hips to pin his erection down against his stomach and he sighed again, rolling his eyes. “I’m not asking for much, you know.”

“No,” he agreed quietly, rubbing his hands over my hips again. His eyes flicked up to meet mine and he smiled. “I think you know where they are.” 

I grinned and leaned across him toward the nightstand. His hands roamed across my sides and breasts, distracting and teasing while I hunted for the condoms. “You’re impossible,” I sighed once I’d found them and returned to kiss him. 

“Yup,” he grinned. He arched his back and tucked his hands behind his head, watching me with a smug smile. 

I stuck out my tongue at him and then kissed my way down his chest and stomach. I heard a few sounds that sounded less smug and grinned as I unwrapped the condom and rolled it on, giving him a few extra strokes before I came back up to kiss his mouth again. “Speaking of impossible,” he growled at me. 

“Impossible!” I laughed as I settled against his chest. “I’m not even difficult.”

Jason smiled slowly, brushing the backs of his fingers against my cheek. “Still surprises me to see you here,” he whispered before pulling me closer to kiss my lips. 

“Why?” I whispered back. I traced his lips with the tip of my tongue and he sighed, eyes slipping closed. 

“To be honest,” he growled softly, “I’m not used to anyone being here. I’m more used to waking up somewhere else.” His tongue flicked out and tasted my lips while his hands wandered down my shoulders, then up over my back. “I could get used to this.”

“Waking up in your own bed?” I grinned. 

“That, too.” His eyes met mine and I bit my lip, watching his face. He lifted his hips a little and I groaned, rolling with his body and kissing him harder. With one hand on my lower back and the other tangled in my hair, Jason shifted more insistently, his erection twitching against my skin. I buried my face in his neck and groaned again, shifted my hips to free him. “I could really get used to waking up to you,” he growled in my ear and pushed himself gently into me. 

I gasped and relaxed against him, rocking my hips back to drive him deeper. “God, that feels good.” He chuckled quietly and his hand gripped my hip, his fingers warm and spread wide. I rolled my hips slowly from side to side and grinned at the sound he made, his hand in my hair tightening. When his hips bucked up a little, I gasped again and he answered with a soft growl. Both hands dropped back to my hips and I nipped the skin of his neck lightly, panting. “Please,” I found myself begging. 

“God,” he groaned and his head dropped slightly to the side, baring his neck. “Do that again.” 

“This?” I whispered against his skin and very lightly nipped his skin again, just at the softest part of his neck. His breathing rasped for a second, not quite a groan but something close. 

“Yes,” he gasped, barely a whisper. “That.”

I grinned and nipped him harder. He rewarded me with another low groan and a deep thrust of his hips. I gasped and rode his thrusts, rocking back and quietly begging for more. One of his hands darted up to the back of my neck and I squeaked in surprise when Jason flipped me over onto my back, braced over me on his forearms. “Ready?” he rasped, repositioning to thrust into me again. 

“Yes,” I whispered.

His hand in my hair closed and gripped firmly, tugging. “Can’t hear you.”

“Yes,” I repeated, louder. I writhed and pushed back against him, begging with my hips.

“Still can’t hear you,” he growled in my ear. He stroked firmly into me and I moaned. “Better.”

I wrapped my legs around his and lifted sharply up with my hips. “Please,” I gasped. 

“I know you can do better,” he growled.

His steady stroke pulled a happy cry out of me and I gripped his shoulders, “Jason, please!” 

“Better,” he growled. “Let me hear you.”

I cried out again and clung to him. “Harder,” I begged. “God, please.”

“Yes.” His back arched under my hands and he pressed his face against my shoulder. “God, Hilde.” I pulled myself closer to him and nipped at his neck again, coaxing. His low growl shook through me and I cried out, surprised as his thrusts increased. Dizzy with excitement, I clung to him and nipped whenever I could reach his neck, catching once hard enough that he grunted and gave me a briefly dirty look. I grinned at him and he tugged my hair again, arching my neck. “Bad girl,” he growled. 

“That’s right,” I growled back and writhed under him. His eyes rolled back and I grinned fiercely. He tried to pull my hair again, but I rocked my hips up sharply and he groaned. “C’mon,” I hissed at him. “Let me feel you.”

He looked up at me and the fire in his eyes was enough to melt me immediately. With a sound somewhere between a snarl and a moan, Jason braced himself and drove into me, hard and fast until I could only hang on and beg for more, breathless and wild. Finally, he buried himself deep and held me tightly to him, his whole body shivering as he came into me. I kept my arms around his shoulders, my fingers pressed against his back and my legs tangled up with his. 

Jason dropped his forehead to my shoulder with a long, slow exhale. “Damn.”

I giggled softly and kissed the side of his face, nuzzling against his damp beard. “Indeed.”

He shifted slowly and drew himself out, one hand slipping down to keep the condom pinned as he softened. “You okay?” he murmured once he’d dealt with the condom and dropped himself back beside me. When I let my head drop to the side to look at him, eyebrows raised, he grinned. “Do you need more?”

I slowly shook my head and smiled. “Nope. I’m good. You?”

He chuckled and leaned to kiss my mouth, warm and sweet. “More than good.” 

 

I must have dozed off because it was almost ten by the time Jason rolled over and grunted something vague about coffee. He paused to look at me, one eyebrow raised. “Unless you want something else.”

“Coffee,” I agreed with a bleary smile. I poured myself off the edge of the bed and sat on the floor for a second, still feeling dazed. Jason chuckled and walked out of the bedroom, grabbing a pair of boxers as he left. “You don’t need those,” I called after him and heard him laugh. I poked around on the floor until I found my own discarded clothing and studied them for a minute. Soft sweater, jeans, bra. Panties that were definitely in need of a wash before being worn again. “Now what?” I muttered to myself. 

“Do you want waffles?” Jason called from the kitchen.

“Yes,” I replied. After a few more minutes of internal debate, I came out of the bedroom and leaned against the doorframe in the kitchen, waiting for him to turn around and see me. 

When he finally did turn around from stuffing frozen waffles into the toaster oven, Jason paused with a sidewise grin, his eyes scanning over me. “That’s my shirt.”

“Mine’s dirty,” I informed him, rubbing my hands over the soft cotton of the t-shirt. “And this one’s soft.” I grinned at him, then raised my eyebrows. “Do you mind?”

“Nope,” he grinned. “Looks better on you anyway.” He took a step toward me and gathered me slowly back to his chest. As he leaned down to kiss me, he whispered, “I think I like you stealing my clothes.”

“I’ll give them back,” I murmured back, standing on my toes to kiss him back. “Y’know. Someday.” Behind him, the coffee pot made a rude noise and I leaned back to regard it. “I think your coffee pot is sick. Or just opinionated.”

He put his head on my shoulder and sighed. “I’ve been meaning to get a new one.”

I grinned and kissed his cheek. “I can forgive you for forgetting to pick up dirty dishes. But the suffering coffee pot? Tsk.” I slipped out of his arms and went to find my phone, which had gotten left in the living room last night. I had several messages, most of them from coworkers asking for updates, one from my ex-sister-in-law, and another from my mother. As I flipped through them and debated on answering them, Jason returned and slipped his arms back around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder. I leaned my head back against him. “Plans for today?”

“Not until this evening,” he replied, kissing the top of my shoulder. “You?”

“I need to go home and feed the cat,” I sighed. “And assure her that I’m not dead. I don’t think I’ve left her alone overnight since two Christmases ago.”

“The scintillating life of a librarian,” he chuckled in my ear and nibbled the slope of my neck.

I shivered and swatted at the top of his head. “You’re not allowed to nibble me and insult me at the same time. Just so you know. Pick one or the other.” He grinned and kissed my neck again, then let me go when the toaster oven chimed. 

I came into the kitchen to watch him flipping waffles out onto plates. I let myself just enjoy the sight of him, tall and lean in his boxers, well-muscled and garnished with tattoos. My harder nip was still standing out darkly against his skin and I grinned, feeling warm. When he handed me a plate, I nodded toward his forearm and asked, “What’s ‘bisou?’”

He leaned in and kissed the end of my nose quickly. “That.” When I looked puzzled, he grinned, “It means ‘small kiss’ in French.” He offered me the plate again and I accepted it, feeling the blush on my cheeks. 

“It’s not fair,” I sighed as I poured syrup over my waffle.

“What’s not?”

I half-glared at him. “Guys are supposed to be annoying or annoyed the next morning. If anything, I like you more.”

Jason grinned at me and rolled his waffle into a tube. “I could try to be more annoying, if it helps.” We both looked toward the bedroom when his phone rang again and he sighed, stuffing the waffle tube into his mouth. He mumbled something that might have been “one minute” but I couldn’t tell for sure, and walked into the bedroom to retrieve the phone.

While I was eating my breakfast and drinking coffee that the beleaguered pot had half-burned trying to brew, I went through my texts again. I sent emoticons to Lana, Rachel, and Liz just so they knew I was still breathing. I sent love to Nikki, my sister-in-law. I replied negatively to Mom’s question about whether I was coming for Thanksgiving this year. I could hear Jason talking on his phone in the bedroom and idly noted that he sounded annoyed. It was a tone I hadn’t heard yet, at least not directed toward me. 

Jason came back with a grumbled sigh and a shirt on. I pouted my disappointment and he smiled at me, apologetic. “As much as I’d like to extend this, I need to go. Apparently Monday isn’t going to be early enough for that job I took earlier.”

I twisted my lips in genuine disappointment and swallowed my most recent bite of waffle. “Can I help? Or is it confidential?”

He looked thoughtful and shrugged. “It’s not that confidential. If the library was open, I’d be going down there to ask for help anyway.”

“HWLC is open,” I said. “There are a few locations open on Sundays, actually.” I shrugged and grinned, “And you’ve got a half-naked reference librarian in your apartment.”

Jason chuckled and leaned to kiss me lightly. “Are you open for business?”

“Always,” I grinned back and kissed him back. “Give me a laptop and I’ll see what I can do.”

With Jason’s laptop on the snack bar and his hand on my hip, I started a new search. “They need information on last year’s financials for Keller and Beeman, the technology corp located downtown.”

I went to Google and he glared at me. “What?” I asked innocently. 

“I thought you were a librarian.”

“I am.” I typed in a string of search modifiers and he blinked over my shoulder. I flicked the mouse past the surface results and found a few corporate links and research databases. “Google does the legwork, a good librarian shows you what to pay attention to.” I opened the best of the links in separate tabs and entered my password as a librarian to a few of the professional databases. “And it doesn’t hurt to work for a library.”

Jason read over my shoulder and scrolled through the sources, then sent a few of them to a printer. “Thank you,” he said with a smile and kissed my cheek. “This makes my afternoon a lot easier.”

“You still need more?” I asked and he nodded. “What else?”

“I need to run a background check on a few of their officers…” 

Before he’d finished, I had the corporate page up again and asked, “Which ones?”

“Henry Ryling and George St. Jude.”

I ran the names through another professional database and pointed with the cursor, “Looks like they’ve run a few businesses together before. Not successfully, either. If they’re on the board for Keller and Beeman, they may be trouble.”

Jason hummed to himself, thinking. “Can you print those for me?”

“Sure.” I sent them to his printer and glanced up. He had pulled his glasses down and was peering at the screen over them, then pushed them up again to read more normally. “Anything else?”

He glanced down at me with a smile. “I think that’s what I needed, actually. You’re going to put me out of a job, gorgeous.”

I snorted and shook my head. “Hardly.”

“That’s a whole hour of work I don’t have to do now.” Jason leaned down and kissed me again. “And I get paid for having a half-naked woman Google shit for me.”

“How much?” I asked with a cool smile.

Jason grinned. 

 

Around two, I wandered home with the plan of feeding the cat and maybe catching up on some YouTube videos. Such an exciting life. Nefret was beside herself with rage that I’d left her alone all night. In addition to shouting at me nonstop for almost ten minutes, she had also pooped on my pillow and peed beside the litter box. “I’ve learned my lesson, sweet girl,” I sighed as I cleaned it up. “Next time, I’ll bring you with me.”

Because it really did seem like there’d be a next time. I found it very hard to believe I had only known Jason for a grand total of around 50 hours. He got my sense of humor, enjoyed most of the same random things I did, ranging from crappy B movies to watching the lake during a thunderstorm. He was as comfortable in his own skin as I wished I could be in mine. And he made me feel safer than I had in a long time. We had set a tentative date for Monday night at my place for pizza. He was bringing wine and I had decided to force him to watch  _ Tusk _ . If he survived that, he was a keeper.

I bundled the sheets together with the rest of my work clothes and dragged it all with me to the building’s shared laundry down the hall. I had stolen Jason’s t-shirt long-term and was wearing it with my jeans from yesterday as I parked myself on a bench and started flipping through social media while I waited for my turn at the washing machine.

“You look… different.” 

I blinked and looked up to see my neighbor from across the hall watching me with amusement. Noelle smiled and I smiled back. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you look different,” she repeated. “And your cat cried all night.”

I looked down at myself and raised an eyebrow. “I’m out of clean underwear, but I can’t imagine how that shows on my face.” I shifted on the bench and considered her words. I felt different. Like someone had lifted something off my shoulders. I realized I wasn’t even nervous about sitting in public. “I hope Nefret wasn’t too loud.”

“It just surprised me,” Noelle said as she shuttled her clothes from the washer to the dryer. “She’s usually so quiet. And you. I mean, she never cries like that if you’re home.” She glanced over her shoulder, raising one eyebrow curiously.

I pursed my lips and met her eyes, gently challenging. She looked away with a grin, “None of my business, of course.”

“Of course,” I chuckled. “Just like it’d be none of your business if someone’s in the hallway around 6:30 tomorrow night.” As she started the dryer, I grinned at her and started loading my own clothes into the washer. 


	5. Chapter 5

Monday was a bear of a day. Five damaged books between three patrons had utterly worn out my faith in humanity, but the pizza crust was ready and waiting and I wasn’t about to miss another chance to see Jason. Besides, the cat still needed to approve him.

I was elbow-deep in mozzarella cheese and tomato sauce when a knock on my door caught my attention. “Just a second!” I called over and tried to open the door without getting sauce everywhere. Jason watched me with amusement when I finally opened the door with one hand and an elbow. “Come in,” I grinned at him. “Make yourself at home.”

“You look like you killed someone,” he informed me as he came in, pointing to the splatter of tomato sauce on my shirt. I spotted the door to Noelle’s apartment opened a crack and her dark eyes peeking out at me. She looked like an owl, eyes round and her jaw slightly slack.

“I’m aware,” I replied cheerfully and winked at my neighbor before I turned away. “Watch the cat. She’s an escape artist.”

Jason walked the rest of the way into my apartment and closed the door after him in time to keep Nefret from sneaking out into the hallway. His eyes scanned over the living room and kitchen, then he held up a bottle of wine. “Malbec and merlot. I hope it’s okay.” 

I glanced at it, recognized the label and nodded, “That’s a good one. The pizza’s almost ready to go in, if you want to open it.” He followed me into the kitchen and I fished a corkscrew out of a drawer. “Just cheese?”

“Unless you want something else.” Jason took the corkscrew and started working the cork out of the bottle. He jumped a little and looked down. “What does it mean if your cat is sitting on my foot?”

“She likes you,” I replied. I spread mozzarella, cheddar, and parmesan cheese over the prepared crust, considered, then added some gouda for good measure. “She also probably wants you to take your shoes off.”

Jason glanced up at me with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah?”

I nodded. “She’s very opinionated. She likes socks.” I slipped the pizza into the oven and set a timer. “Especially if they smell.”

When I looked up again, he was struggling to dance out of his shoes without stepping on the cat. “She’s… not making it easy.” 

“She’s a cat,” I laughed. I took two wine glasses down from the cupboard and put them near the bottle on the counter. “She makes nothing easy.” 

Jason leaned on the counter and glared at me, “You’re not helping.”

“I just live with her,” I informed him with a grin. 

He shifted a few more times, trying to work the shoes off, but Nefret wound around behind his ankles and finally he yelped, lost his balance, and landed on the floor. Pleased with herself, the torbie hopped up onto his knees and stared at him, purring loudly. 

“Yeah,” I said as I leaned over the counter, “I think she likes you.”

“How can you tell?” Jason asked nervously without looking away from her.

“She’s purring,” I grinned. “And she didn’t try to hamstring you. Nor has she tried to eat you now that you’re down.”

“Good to know.”

I took the open bottle and poured two glasses of wine, taking a second to sniff and sigh happily. “Yup, I like this one.”

“I just bought the first one that sounded like something you’d mentioned,” Jason said as he climbed back to his feet and set his shoes by the door. Nefret followed the shoes and promptly buried her face in the warm insides, purring like a diesel engine. “It wasn’t expensive or anything.”

“I know,” I grinned. “Look in the cupboard there.” I pointed to a dark wooden cupboard on the living room side of the counter. When Jason opened it, he started to laugh. Inside were four more bottles identical to the one he’d brought. “Expensive doesn’t always mean best,” I grinned.

“I bow to the master,” he smiled back and closed the cupboard. “I would have pegged you for a white wine drinker, maybe champagne.”

“Blech,” I replied in disgust, sticking out my tongue. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Most of the women I know seem to prefer the lighter colored stuff.”

“There are some that are worth drinking,” I shrugged. “But generally I like the darker flavor and strong tannin of red wine. I’ll drink meade, though, and that’s pretty light.” I checked on the pizza, looked down and remembered the sauce splattered on my shirt. “I’m going to go stash the evidence. Be right back.” I paused and waved my hands at him, “Make yourself comfortable. Talk to the cat.”

I slipped back to my bedroom to the sound of his soft chuckle and smiled to myself. I tossed the stained shirt into the laundry basket and retrieved my favorite light sweater from the pile where Nefret had been sleeping on it earlier. With Jason’s shoes as distraction, at least I’d get my sweater this time. I brushed the worst of the cat fur from the body and slid into it, exhaling in satisfaction as the bright silk and cashmere settled on my skin. “I love this sweater.”

When I came back out, Jason was sitting on the couch with one of the books from my shelf in one hand and Nefret curled up on his lap. His glass of wine was on the side table and I found myself smiling warmly. He looked like he belonged there. He glanced up at me, then pulled his glasses down to look again, lips pursed. “Wow.”

I looked down at myself and grinned. One of the reasons I loved this sweater was the view. I may not have liked my body terribly well, but I had nice boobs and I was proud of them. “Thank you,” I said and went to check on the pizza. At a glance, it would take another five minutes for the pizza to be ready. A second glance toward Jason told me that if I didn’t set an audible timer, the pizza would burn: he was still watching me avidly. I grinned at him and set the timer on the microwave for five minutes.

I circled the kitchen counter to sit next to him on the couch. “I see you’ve survived the initial encounter,” I said and reached stroke Nefret’s head. She gave me a briefly irritated glance, then closed her eyes and purred.

Jason smiled. “Never was much of a cat person. But she could change my mind. She’s beautiful.”

“Of course she is,” I agreed. “Not the most dignified cat I’ve ever known, but she is beautiful.” The cat opened her eyes to squint at me and flicked her tail. “And smart.”

“I’m not sure how smart anyone can be if their way of greeting someone is knocking them over and stealing their shoes.” 

I grinned at him. “Seems like a sound plan to me. Makes your attempts to leave slower.”

Jason studied my face for a second, then his eyes slipped lower and I grinned wider, enjoying the look on his face. “Damn, that’s nice,” he breathed.

“Thank you,” I whispered and leaned forward to kiss him lightly. “It’s nice to be appreciated.” The timer in the kitchen bleated and I sighed, nodding, “Yup. I knew there was a reason I set the timer.” I leaned and kissed him again, more firmly and more quickly, then stood up to check the pizza. As I passed him, I felt Jason’s hand drag against my hip and I glanced back to smile at him. The casual touch felt like heaven.

As heat rolled out of the oven, I pulled the finished pizza out and slid it onto the cutting board. The smell was perfect. The cheese was perfect. I had not messed up, in spite of my usual hosting anxiety. I dropped the empty pan into the sink to cool and pulled out my half-moon pizza cutter. 

“Holy shit,” Jason said from the couch, leaning to get a better look. “Do you cut pizza with a sword?” I flicked a finger against the steel and listened to it ring with a pleased grin, then cut the pizza into twelve pieces and put the blade in the sink with the pan.

“It’s my ker-chunker,” I informed him with a smug smile. “How many pieces do you want?”

“I can get it,” he said and started to stand up.

“You have the cat.” Nefret was giving him the death glare, her chin still pressed firmly onto her front paws. I scooped three pieces of pizza onto a plate, then took two for myself and brought them over to the coffee table. “I usually eat over here anyway.” 

“She really rules the house, doesn’t she?” Jason asked, regarding Nefret as she resettled into his lap and resumed purring.

I sat down with the bottle of wine and my own glass. “Yes. I told you, I just live with her.” I took a bite of pizza and sighed happily. “There’s nothing like homemade pizza and good wine.”

Jason grinned at me, then took a bite of his own. I watched his face for a reaction while trying to hide that I was watching him. He chewed, swallowed, then paused, studied the pizza, sighed and took another bite. “That is really good pizza.”

“Thank you,” I beamed. 

“If I hadn’t seen you making it, I would have thought it was from somewhere and I’d want to invest.” 

I snickered, “Okay, okay, that’s enough.” I pulled my feet up onto the couch and worked them under his hip. “You don’t need to lay it on that thick.”

“I’m not.” Jason squirmed as my toes worked farther under him. “What are you doing, woman?” 

“My feet are cold.”

“So you’re molesting my ass because…?”

I grinned at him. “It’s not my fault your ass is hot.”

He squirmed and laughed. “Stop!” Nefret made an irritated sound and hopped down from his lap to stalk off down the hallway. When I wiggled my toes, Jason reached to pin my ankles. “Stop it. Seriously, Hilde.”

I smirked at him. “You’re ticklish.”

“I am not.”

“You are!” I pulled my feet out from under him and threw one leg across his lap, landing there with a grin.

“Don’t you dare,” he rumbled warningly.

It was too late. My hands darted out along his sides and Jason doubled over sideways with a flailing belly laugh. I tickled him until he was almost purple and gasping, at which point he finally started to fight back, pinning me into the cushions of the couch and grabbing my wrists. “I said,” he panted at me, “don’t.”

“Or what?” I purred back at him, wriggling my hips.

His lips curled and he huffed at me. “All I wanted was a quiet piece of pizza and a movie.”

“Bullshit,” I grinned.

“The mouth on you,” Jason snickered and leaned down to kiss me.

“You love it,” I growled and kissed him back.

He stretched my arms up over my head and kept my hands pinned there while he kissed me, thoughtfully and thoroughly. “Pizza’s getting cold,” he whispered in my ear, then kissed my neck and let me up. I sat up and rearranged my clothing, since the low neckline on my sweater was causing some interference, then settled beside him on the couch with a grin. “So, are we watching something or did you want to skip straight to sex?” he asked, leaning in to kiss the end of my nose.

“Since you asked so nicely…” I retrieved my remote to turn on the TV and hit the controller button to wake up the PS3. I settled cross-legged on the couch and Jason leaned to snag another piece of pizza from his plate. 

“You use a video game to play movies.”

“It works,” I replied and sniffed. I opened the Amazon Video app and flipped to my watch list. “Besides, I don’t have cable.”

“How do you survive?”

“Amazon Prime and Netflix.” I tapped “play” on the movie and snuggled up against Jason’s arm with my plate in my lap. 

_ Tusk _ was one of the strangest movies I had ever watched in my life and that was saying something. I considered myself something of a connoisseur of bad movies. I watched shitty B-movies for fun, often making fun of them all the way through to the end of the credits. I watched Jason’s face more than I watched the screen, since I had already seen it at least four times. I’d used it to screen out a few second dates from becoming third dates. 

Mostly, his reaction was similar to my own the first time: horror mixed with morbid fascination and barely restrained hysterical laughter. When we finally hit the final battle and its driving Fleetwood Mac soundtrack, he fell over sideways into my lap, almost howling with laughter. I hugged him, giggling pretty hard myself. That scene always got me, even when I knew it was coming. Watching his breakdown was the perfect moment in my night and I kissed him when he rolled over onto his back, still laughing and helpless. “What have you done to me?” he gasped, one hand over his eyes.

“Initiated you into the weirdness that is my life,” I grinned.

“What did I just watch?”

I kissed him again and he let out a weak giggle. “It’s not so much something you’ve watched as something you’ve  _ experienced _ ,” I said, holding my hands out over him like a philosophy major expounding on the mysteries of the universe while high on either too much weed or too much caffeine. “That, my friend, was the masterwork of Kevin Smith.”

Jason raised an eyebrow and shifted his shoulders to lie back in my lap more comfortably. “Kevin Smith… like  _ Clerks _ Kevin Smith?”

“That’s him.”

“No wonder.” He grinned and shook his head slowly. “That was beyond weird.”

“I know, right?” I giggled.

“How did you even find it?”

“It’s Rachel’s fault.” I grinned and ran my fingers through his hair as I spoke. He closed his eyes with a smile. “She has a weird thing about finding the worst movies ever and getting other people to watch them for her so she doesn’t have to.”

“And Rachel is…?”

“One of the girls at work.”

He half opened his eyes and smirked up at me. “Which one?”

***

“Excuse me.”

I bit my lip hard to keep from smiling. I could hear Jason’s voice drifting over from where he was addressing Rachel at the circulation desk. I peeked up from my paperwork and the stack of books I was collecting for patrons. He was leaning over the desk while Rachel looked up at him blandly. “How can I help you today?” she asked, her customer service voice firmly in place.

“You’re Rachel, right?” 

She blinked once and I had to stuff my fist in my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. “Yes. How can I help you?”

“I’ve got a bone to pick with you.” Jason wagged a finger at her and I watched Rachel’s face ice over, a mix of anger and glacial wariness. “Did you know that  _ Tusk _ is cruel and unusual punishment?”

Rachel stared at him for a second, then her eyebrows drew together. “What?”

“ _ Tusk _ ,” Jason repeated and stabbed his finger down on the desk. “That movie is a horrible atrocity and I had to watch it in its entirety. And it’s your fault.”

Rachel’s eyes darted to where I was doubled over myself in the stacks, cackling into my hands. “Hilde…”

“Yes?” I called back innocently.

“Did you make someone watch  _ Tusk _ again?”

“Maybe?” Jason tried to maintain his glare, but it cracked into a smile when I came out and hit him over the head with my stack of papers. “Leave Rachel alone, meanie.” I grinned at Rachel. “Rachel, this is Jason. Jason, the architect of my misery, Rachel.”

“I’ve heard of you,” Rachel informed him without breaking a smile.

“Likewise.” Jason offered her his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

This time, Rachel did smile and shook his hand. “So, you’re the reason Hilde’s actually smiling more.”

“I smile!” I protested and Rachel grinned.

“Yes, but you do it a lot more.” She considered a moment, then added, “And it looks like you actually mean it now.”

Jason looked at me over his shoulder and smirked. “Independent confirmation that I’m doing well. Nice.” I stuck my tongue out at him. “I was actually coming to see if I could steal you for lunch.”

“I have a girlfriend,” Rachel informed him.

Jason blinked at her and laughed. “Hilde,” he clarified. “I would like to steal Hilde for lunch. Not that I’m sure you wouldn’t be perfectly charming over sushi.”

Rachel pulled a face of supreme disgust. “Ew. Fish. If you take her, do you promise not to bring back leftovers?”

“My lunch is in about twenty minutes,” I told Jason with a grin. “I’d love sushi.”

“I’ll hang out in the reading room until then,” he smiled and leaned down to kiss me. “Nice to meet you, Rachel.” 

As we watched him amble off toward the reading room, Rachel made a humming sound in her throat, then glanced up at me. “He’s cute.”

“I’m aware,” I smiled.

“You made him watch  _ Tusk _ ?”

“Of course. It’s second date tradition.”

She chuckled. “How’d he do?”

“He laughed.” I tapped my paperwork on the desk to realign the edges. “And then came to hassle you.” 

“Wow.” She spun her chair slowly to watch me, her head to the side a little. “Keeping this one?”

Jason turned back at the entrance to the reading room and smiled at me, a quick little cheeky grin before he vanished inside. “If he lets me,” I sighed. “I don’t think it’s really up to me.” I glanced quickly at Rachel and smiled, feeling the little bit of sadness on my face. “I’m going to finish the pick list. Call me if you need me.”

“Will do.”


	6. Chapter 6

Life continued. I sort of expected to lose touch with Jason after the first few days and the whirlwind of that first week, but he kept texting me. And kept answering when I texted him. It wasn’t always instantaneous. I never went more than 12 hours without something from him, though, and that really shocked me. Sometimes, it was nothing more than a “Good morning, beautiful” around 7 AM or an odd photo of something he’d seen in a store downtown that made him laugh. But he always reached out.

And he dropped by at least once a week to the library to take me to lunch. Or dinner. Usually without much planning or warning. I would just look up and there he would be, standing to the side and waiting until I noticed him with a small half-smile on his face. His kisses were still electric; his hugs still felt like home.

Five weeks after our first date, he showed up at the library near closing with a bottle of the same merlot/malbec he’d brought to my apartment for pizza and  _ Tusk _ and a single helium-filled mylar balloon shaped like a planet with rings. “Your boyfriend’s here,” Lana informed me from the desk and I stuck my head out of the workroom to grin at him. 

“What’s with the balloon?” I asked him in amusement as I came out and he enfolded me in a warm hug. He smelled oddly of cigarette smoke and cherries, but when I nuzzled my face past his jacket to his shirt, he smelled more like himself: soap and skin and leather.

I felt him exhale when he pressed his face to the top of my head and I wondered to myself what was going through his mind. “They had a sale,” he said. “Thought Nefret would like the ribbon.” I looked up at him skeptically and he smiled. There was something in his face I couldn’t quite read and I tilted my head, curious. He shook his head and kissed my forehead quickly. “Want to get some dinner?”

I sighed and nodded, “But could we get something in? It’s been a hell day and that wine is looking really good right now.”

“Chinese?”

“Perfect.” I stood on my toes and he kissed me gently, one hand cupped against my cheek. “See you in a few.”

“See you at home.”

We both stopped and looked at each other, surprised. Jason opened his mouth, then closed it again, blushing and I chewed my lip. “Mine or yours?” I finally asked.

“Yours.” His voice was hoarse and a little rough, his expression almost confused. After another moment of wordless staring, he smiled quickly and nodded before turning and heading out of the library. The balloon bobbed along behind him.

“What was that?” Lana asked me as I came back to lean on the desk, watching him go.

“I’m… not sure.” 

She tilted her head to watch me, one eye squinted in an expression of exaggerated suspicion. “What are you guys anyway? We all know you’re banging.”

I made a resigned, half-irritated face, “Yes, thank you for that. I think we’re just friends still. That’s what it feels like, anyway.”

“Friends who bang.”

“Yes,” I sighed and swatted at her shoulder. “Friends who bang.” She grinned at me, unapologetic. I leaned my forearms on the counter and sighed, stretching my back. “I really like him, Lana. I don’t know what we are, but I know I’m happier when he’s there.” She watched me and slowly spun her chair in a circle. I rested my chin on my forearms. “I don’t even know what I want us to be.”

The lights flashed, signalling the last ten minutes before closing. The building was already mostly empty and we waited on the last couple stragglers before locking up the doors and collecting our things. “I hope you figure it out,” Lana said to me before we split up to go to our cars. 

“Yeah, me, too.” I smiled and waved. “Night.”

 

I parked and wandered my way up to my apartment, only to find Jason and his balloon on my doorstep. He was sitting on the floor, his back against my door and his lap full of Chinese takeout boxes. His eyes were closed and I briefly wondered if he had fallen asleep before his eyes opened and he smiled at me. Something in my chest tightened and then released again at that smile. “You look tired,” I sighed and dropped to my knees beside him. 

“You, too,” he murmured. He stroked the back of his fingers down my cheek and smiled again. “Gonna open the door or are we going to eat in the hallway?”

Nefret let out a truly pathetic bleat of protest from the other side of the door and we both grinned. “She thinks we should come in,” I said with a nod and stood up again. Jason continued to lean against the door until I opened it and then he let himself roll down to the floor in the middle of the doorway. “C’mon, Jay,” I sighed and nudged him with my toe. “Nefret’s going to get out.”

He looked up at me from the floor with a thoughtful expression. “Nobody calls me that.” He got up again and collected the boxes into the apartment before the cat could make up her mind if she wanted to run freely down the hallway or bury her face in Jason’s shoes. As he spread the boxes out on the counter, I filled Nefret’s dish with dry food and kicked my work shoes off by the door. Before I could walk any farther than the kitchen, Jason’s arm snaked out and wrapped around my waist, pulling me tight to his chest. I relaxed against him with my head against his chest. “I missed you,” he said quietly.

I looked up at him, arching my neck to examine his expression upside-down. “You okay? You sound off.”

He was quiet for a moment, then spun me around to face him and kissed me securely, his hands on my hips. “I. Missed. You.” Jason leaned his forehead against mine, his eyes closed. “I’m not used to that.”

“Missing me?” I asked softly. 

“Missing anyone.” He kissed me again, lingering. “I think it’s disturbing my calm.”

I laughed and ran my palms over his cheeks, enjoying the texture of his beard under my hands. “Have you seen  _ Firefly _ ?” I asked as my hands worked around his neck and pulled him down to kiss me again. 

“No.” 

“Good show,” I said with a nod. “Too short.” His eyes opened and Jason let out a long sigh. I was surprised by the almost haunted look on his face. Something really was bothering him. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “What’s wrong?”

He gathered me to his chest and held me tightly, his face pressed into my neck. He took a few long, slow breaths like that before he whispered, “It was a Freudian slip. At the library. But I feel like if I never went back to my apartment, it wouldn’t matter. I want to be here. Hilde, what are we?”

I ran my fingers through his hair, considering. “Lana asked me the same thing, actually.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That I didn’t know. Because I don’t.”

Jason shifted to look at me, his eyes sad and tired. “I need to know, I think.”

“I don’t know, Jason,” I repeated quietly. “What do you need?”

He hugged me tightly and I leaned against him, waiting. I could tell that whatever was weighing on him loomed large in his mind, so I just waited. Finally, he sighed and kissed my cheek. “Get some food and come sit with me on the couch.” He collected a plate of rice and beef with broccoli, then sat down on the couch with Nefret wandering near his shoulder. She was as much his cat now as she was mine. When I sat down across from him with my own dinner, he fished through the plate with his fork and sighed. “I was involved with someone about a year ago,” he started in a soft voice. “She was married. It was… fun. At first. Just fun. I liked her, she liked me, we had good chemistry.” He poked a piece of broccoli with his fork and stuffed it in his mouth. “It took me a while to realize I was feeling more. It took someone else pointing it out. And I fucked it up. Things changed, some of them too fast and others not fast enough.” His eyes met mine and he smiled sadly. “Maybe it was better, ending the way it did. But I spent too much time not knowing what we were until it was too late. I don’t want to do that again.”

I watched him, considering his words. “We’re fun,” I said softly and he smiled slowly, nodding. “Jason, I don’t know what I’m feeling beyond that. It’s been a long-ass time. I barely date, let alone get tangled up in more.” I sighed and leaned my head on the back of the couch, still watching him.

“Do you think long-term?” he asked in a low voice.

“Not really,” I admitted. “But I like being with you. Which is more than I can say for most people I know.” I ate a forkful of my rice and thought about it. “And my cat likes you.”

“The ultimate test,” Jason grinned. 

I grinned back at him, “It really is.” We ate in silence for a few minutes, serenaded by Nefret’s steady purr. “What about you?”

“Never have.” He shifted his legs and pulled one up under the other, balancing his plate there. “I like to keep my options open.” Jason’s eyes flicked up to my face, then back down to his dinner. “Usually.”

“Usually?”

“Lately, you’ve been my option.” 

I frowned and stirred the broccoli on my plate. “I don’t have to be. I mean, it’s not like I own you.”

“I know.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes behind his glasses for a second. “That’s the thing, though. I go out, get drinks like usual. And I miss you.” Jason pulled his hand down to cover his mouth and looked at me. “I see a lot of pretty girls, but none of them are you. I don’t want to be there. I want to be with you. And I’m really not used to that.”

I could feel my heart hammering and took a moment to carefully swallow my mouthful of rice and broccoli. “So, what are you saying?”

Jason took a slow breath and set his plate aside before sliding down the couch toward me. He took my plate and I waved my fork after it in protest. “It’s not going far,” he chuckled as he set it on the coffee table. 

“Nefret will get it.”

Jason’s fingers curled into my hair and he pulled me close to kiss me. “No more dodging, Hilde.” I chewed my lip and peeked up into his face. “I think I’m falling in love with you.” He leaned and let his forehead rest against mine. The tops of our glasses clicked together quietly and he grinned, taking his off and setting them beside the plates. “And I need to know if you’re okay with that.”

“I…” I chewed my lip and closed my eyes when Jason cradled my face gently. “I don’t know how I feel, Jason. I don’t know.”

“I’m not asking you to.” His lips touched my forehead and I took a slow breath. “I just want to know if you’re okay… with my falling in love with you.”

“What if I don’t love you back?”

“I’m a big boy.” 

I looked at him with a frustrated sigh. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

His smile was warm and made me bite my lip. “Then don’t.”

“Jason--”

“No.” He kissed me again and sighed. “I’m not asking you to love me. I’m not even asking you to try.” His dark eyes found mine and he smiled. “I just want to see where this goes.” His thumb brushed my cheek. “I’m not really sure, either.” When I didn’t answer, Jason closed his eyes and leaned his head against my shoulder. “Talk to me.”

“I’m hungry and you took my food away.” I smiled at him and enjoyed the embarrassed grin on his face. “Does this mean… we’re making something different here?”

Jason reached across me, scooped up my plate and held it out to me. “I think we are. Are you okay with that?”

I took the plate and leaned forward to kiss him. “Yeah. I think I am.”

“So…” Jason watched as I started to eat again. “What are we now?”

I licked some rice off my fork and grinned at him. “Can I call you my boyfriend?”

Jason ducked his head and grinned.

 

I woke up around three in the morning. I could hear my cat purring, the soft sound of Jason breathing. I rolled over slowly, my fingers questing out until I found the warmth of his skin. As I tucked myself closer to him, I realized that Nefret’s purring was closer. I looked up and grinned in the darkness. She was haloed around Jason’s head, her tail across his neck like a fluffy scarf. “Hey, baby girl,” I whispered to her and reached up to scratch her behind the ears. Her eyes squinted and she purred louder. “And what do you think about all this?”

Jason made a low sound in his throat and rolled toward me, his arm curling around my waist. Nefret snorted and mewled her irritation before hopping off the bed and stalking away again. I held still, waiting to see if Jason was going to fall asleep again or if he was going to wake up the rest of the way. His arm tightened slowly and he let out a slow sigh. “You’re here.”

I smiled at him. “It’s my bed. Of course I’m here.”

In the darkness and without my glasses, I could barely see his face, but the faint light from the window let me catch the movement of his eyelashes as he opened his eyes. His hand slid up my back and he pulled me a little closer. “Still happy you’re here.”

“Go back to sleep,” I whispered and kissed his chin. At least, I was aiming for his chin. He tilted his head down and caught my mouth instead. “Or… don’t.”

He gently rolled me onto my back and kept kissing me. “I’m awake now,” he murmured against my lips. “And happy.”

I shifted and leaned back to see his face in the darkness. “Are you?” When the words left my brain, they were playful, teasing. When they left my mouth, they were serious.

Jason smiled and stroked his fingers through my hair. “Yes. I am.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter introduces the element of Jason's religious faith, which was mentioned in the show but not expanded on. I will be considering morality and religious perspectives going forward. Hopefully I can remain true to the more fun aspects of the character without sacrificing or misrepresenting his faith, especially being non-religious myself.

“Favorite book.” 

I glared at him over the rim of my coffee mug. “I work in a library, Jason. That’s not fair.”

He grinned at me and stretched his legs over the coffee table. “We never agreed they’d be fair questions. And it’s my turn to ask one. What’s your favorite book?”

I groaned and threw my head back against the arm of the couch. “Ugh. I need a limiter. At least pick a genre.”

“Your favorite book.” He paused, considered, then grinned. “Ever. Is ever a limiter?”

“No.” I took another sip of coffee and thought about it. “ _ The Last Unicorn. _ Peter S. Beagle.”

“Really?” Jason looked surprised. “I would have guessed something like  _ Pride and Prejudice _ or  _ Great Expectations. _ Doesn’t being a librarian require that you like boring books?”

I stuck my tongue out at him. “Hardly. It just requires that you read a shitton of different books, understand people, and know how to connect people to information. Besides.  _ The Last Unicorn _ is the background of my childhood.”

“You grew up in the ‘80s, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

He sighed and rubbed one hand over his eyes. “I forget sometimes how young you are.”

I snorted and threw a pillow at him. “Fuck you, old man.”

Laughing, he threw the pillow back and followed it by tackling me. I squeaked and his hand closed over mine to keep me from spilling the mug of coffee. “Don’t provoke me, little girl,” he growled in my ear and took the coffee away. “I’ll steal everything you love.”

“No, Jason, give me the coffee.” I leaned after him and he grinned, rolling back to the opposite end of the couch. He met my eyes and took a sip of my coffee. “No! There’s plenty in the pot! Go get your own!”

“I like yours better,” he grinned. He pulled his knees up and took another sip, then looked down at the mug in irritation. “Actually, I don’t. What is this shit?”

I grinned and retrieved the mug, took a long drink and flopped back to my end of the couch. “Hazelnut creamer, genius. I have a sweet tooth.” Jason worked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, his expression screwed up in disgust. “The coffee’s just Columbian, though.”

He shivered dramatically and stood up to get his own coffee. “Hazelnut creamer, huh?” I turned on the couch to watch him as he collected a mug from my cupboard and poured himself coffee. Jason had spent every night in my apartment for almost two weeks now. He knew his way around and it felt so good to watch him in my space like he belonged there. “Ever tried it black?”

“Only in emergencies.” I drank some more coffee and then followed him into the kitchen. I set my mug on the counter and slipped my hands around his waist. He sighed quietly and leaned back against me a little when I let my fingers dip below the elastic of his boxers. 

“I just poured my coffee,” he groaned. 

“I’m just being appreciative,” I murmured against his back, letting my hands wander along his skin. “I’m not getting between you and your coffee.”

Jason chuckled softly. “Bullshit you’re not.” He grunted when I dragged my nails lightly against his hips. “Coffee first. Please, Hilde. It’s right there. Taunting me.” I grinned to myself and curled my fingers around his growing erection. “Shit.”

“Who’s taunting whom now?”

He thumped his mug against the counter and turned abruptly toward me, scooped me against him and kissed me soundly. “You are such a bitch.”

“And you love it.” 

Jason’s lips curled into a smile as he pressed me up against the counter. “Yeah. I do.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and grinned as he kissed me again and again. He paused to let his beard drag slowly against my cheek. His breath was warm on my skin when he whispered, “I really do.”

I turned my head to catch his lips and pressed closer to him. When he kept kissing me, I hooked one leg around his hip and he groaned. I tangled my fingers in his hair and he half-lifted me until my butt landed on the counter, letting my legs wrap more securely around his waist. “Jason,” I whispered as he hands slid under my nightshirt. He made a soft, acknowledging sound without directly speaking, still kissing my neck. 

A phone rang and we both froze. “That’s yours,” I whispered and kissed his cheek. “Mine’s got the sound off.” He groaned and pressed his face into my neck again. “Going to answer it?”

“No,” he grumbled, but he pressed his lips quickly to my cheek and stood up. With one irritated glance at the tent in his boxers, he pointed at me firmly, “Stay there.” When I nodded seriously, he raised an eyebrow and pointed once more before walking out in search of the ringing phone. I dropped sideways on the counter with a smile and listened to him talking in the other room. 

“Yeah, I’m on it.” I heard him sigh as he came back through the door. “I am going to pitch this damn thing off the nearest bridge,” he informed me and dropped the phone on the counter. 

“Work?” I asked, propping my head on my hand. 

“Yeah.” Jason rubbed both hands over his face and groaned. “I don’t want to.” I rolled onto my back and struck a pose so when he opened his eyes again, he just stared. “That is so unfair.”

I grinned. “At least you’ll know where to find me.” 

He sighed and leaned down to kiss me. “You are a horrible person.”

I curled my fingers against his shoulders as I returned the kiss. “Who loves you.”

Jason froze and we stared at each other for a moment. “You mean that?” he whispered. 

A thousand questions and answers flashed through my mind, but I pushed them all away to hug his neck tightly and whisper, “Yes. I think I do.”

“Fuck work,” Jason whispered and kissed me again. “It can wait.”

 

“Siblings?”

“Two. Younger brothers. You?”

“Two older step-brothers, three younger brothers-in-law. I was raised an only child. Kids?”

“Not that I know of. You?”

“Never wanted them. Did you?”

“Want them?” Jason slowly shrugged and smiled at me. “They’re okay. As long as I can give them back. I think I’d make a pretty shitty father, though.”

I grinned and wiggled my toes under his bare hip until he swatted at my foot under the sheets. “I love my nephews, but that’s about as close to parenthood as I want to get.” I tilted my head and ran my fingers through my hair. “Your turn.”

Jason watched me for a moment, then smiled and looked away. “Believe in God?”

“Not sure.” I wiggled my toes again, just thinking. “I was raised Baptist.”

He winced. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” I chuckled. “Me, too. You?”

His lips curled slowly. “Greek Orthodox.”

“Really.” 

“Yup.”

I tilted my head and watched his face. “I’m not even sure what that means, to be honest.”

Jason slipped one hand under the sheet to cup my calf. “It means I’m right and you’re wrong.” His grin was cheeky and I made a face at him. “That’s what the Orthodox part means, anyway.”

“This a current thing?” I asked as I wiggled around to lean against his side. 

He wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head. “Yup.”

I lay with my cheek pressed against his chest for a moment, just thinking about it. “What do they say about premarital sex?”

His fingers slowly ran through my hair and I listened to his heartbeat. After a little while, he leaned down and kissed the top of my head again. “Pass.”

“Jason?” 

“Pass.” 

I closed my eyes and snuggled closer to him. He held me tighter.

“Jason?” I whispered after a few minutes. 

“Yeah?”

“Greek Orthodox teaches the same thing Protestants do. Right?”

“The state of my soul is my own concern.”

“No.”

“Hilde.”

I sat up and wiggled until I was facing him. Jason watched me, chewing his bottom lip uncomfortably. “Not an hour ago, I told you that I care about you. The state of your soul concerns me, too. Especially if what we’re doing affects that.”

Jason chuckled and dropped his chin to his chest. “You really are a trip sometimes.”

I leaned in and touched his face, worked my fingers into his beard and then kissed him. “Do you feel guilty when you’re with me?”

“No.” He smiled at me and I was surprised by how open it was. He wasn’t lying. “Hilde, I love you.” He pulled me in against his chest and kissed my forehead. “I’m not ashamed of that.” Jason held me close and curled his fingers in my hair. “I don’t want you to be, either.”

I exhaled and relaxed into his arms, buried my face in his chest, took a slow breath of his familiar scent. “Okay,” I whispered. His arms tightened around me and I felt his lips gently pressed against my hair. 

Jason’s phone chirped in the other room with a text and he sighed. “Right off the nearest bridge,” he whispered into my hair and I laughed. 

 

“Excuse me, can you tell me where to find books about cats?”

“636.7. Just down the way over here.”

“Where are your Consumer Reports?”

“Was there one in particular you needed?”

“Yeah, last year’s auto guide.”

“Here you go.”

“Thanks.”

“Can you help me, miss?” 

I looked up with my lips pressed together into a smile. Jason stood with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders shrugged up. He grinned at me. “How can I help you?” I smiled at him in my best professional voice.

“There was this book I read once,” he started and held out his hands. “It was about this big and I think the cover was blue. Maybe black.”

I grinned at him and stood up from my chair to lean across the desk. “Smart ass.”

“Best kind of ass to be,” he murmured back and leaned to kiss me. 

“Eeeeeew,” Lana’s voice drifted from behind me and I grinned against Jason’s lips. 

“Don’t like it, don’t look,” I tossed over my shoulder.

Jason stood up and smiled sheepishly, “Actually, I really am here to make you work. Do you think you can run some checks for me?” He pushed a small notebook across the counter toward me. It was filled with his cramped handwriting. 

“Sure,” I smiled and pulled the notebook across. “How long before you need it?”

“I think they’ll need it on Monday.”

I squinted at the page. “And if I can’t read your writing?”

“Call me,” he grinned. He bounced his loosely closed fist on the counter in front of me. “I’ll pick you up for dinner?”

“Sounds good.” I was already engrossed in searching for his information and didn’t look up until he came around the desk and kissed my cheek. I blinked and looked up at him.

“I love you,” he whispered in my ear.

I closed my eyes and smiled warmly. “I love you, too.”

He nosed my face lightly and said, “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Take care.”

I watched him walk out and then paused to let myself just breathe. 

“So, that looked cozy.” Lana leaned on the back of my chair at just the right angle to jerk it abruptly backwards. I squeaked and kicked my feet to keep my balance. “Things are going well?”

“I’d say so,” I snorted at her. 

Lana grinned at me and steepled her fingers playfully. “Are we hearing wedding bells anytime soon?” She arched an eyebrow at me and smirked.

“No.” I kicked off the desk to spin my chair and knock the back of it against her arms. “I’m not sure I’ve got that kind of thing in me anymore.” I gave her a sidelong look. “And don’t you have stuff to do?”

“Teasing you is more fun,” she said cheerfully and walked back into the staff room.

I shook my head and grinned to myself before falling back into the rabbit hole of Jason’s request. Most of the information in his notes was legible and I made notes in pencil where I wasn’t sure so I could ask him later. Once I had a good grounding in the information, I saved my resources to a folder and closed the program with a sigh. I checked the time: it was almost six.

“Oh. My. God!” Lana squealed and I looked up from my computer station curiously. Jason was standing near the entrance with another of those mylar balloons. He grinned at me and tugged on it, making it bounce. “How is he so cute? God, Hilde.”

“It’s for the cat,” I snickered and nudged her before walking across to him. “What is it with you and balloons?” I asked as I came closer.

“See for yourself,” he murmured back and leaned down to kiss me before slipping the ribbon of the balloon into my hand. I looked down and noticed that it was weighted with something. When I pulled the weight up, I turned the key over in my hand and raised an eyebrow at him. “My apartment,” he whispered. “You think Nefret would like that big overstuffed chair?”

I blinked at the key a few times, then looked slowly up into his face. “Serious?”

“Serious.” He kissed me and closed his hand over mine on the key. “Think about it for a while. There’s no rush. I’ve just… gotten used to you. And I don’t want to lose that.” Jason smiled and squeezed my hand. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah.” I blinked and shook my head to clear it, then smiled at him. “Let me get my stuff.” I tucked the key in my pocket and headed to the staff room, the balloon bobbing behind me.


	8. Chapter 8

Jason leaned down and kissed my forehead. “I’m heading out.”

“Church?” I asked, looking up from the book I was reading, stretched full-length on his couch. He nodded and stood back, checking for his wallet and keys before heading for the door. “Text me for lunch.”

“Sure.” He paused a moment, then looked back at me with his hand on the doorknob. I raised my eyebrows over the book, curious. “Do you… would you come with me?” 

I felt my eyebrows to a little higher in surprise. “Do you want me to?” I considered for a second whether or not I even had church-appropriate clothing. I supposed I could wear something work-ready. “We’ve talked about this. I don’t really do the church thing, Jason.”

“I know.” He shook his head and smiled. “Never mind. It’s okay. I’ll text you when I’m done.”

“Wait.” I put my book aside and got up to cross to him before he could open the door. “You didn’t answer. Do you want me to come?”

He cupped my cheek lightly and stroked my skin with his thumb, watching me. “Yeah. If you want to.”

I stood up on my toes and kissed him. “Give me a second to get dressed. What should I wear?”

“Just be comfortable,” he smiled.

We drove to the church in near silence and I considered what this meant. It had been two months now. Two months since our first date. Maybe a week since I’d moved into his apartment and Nefret had taken over his pillow. We’d talked about just about everything under the sun: his religion, my loss of faith, his ex-girlfriends, my husband, his disbarring, my previous jobs. We’d debated philosophy and religion, politics and social justice. He was as intelligent as he was stunningly handsome and I felt utterly inadequate trying to keep up with him. And I thought it’d been hard to intellectually challenge my husband.

But talking about religion and attending church together were two very different things. He was including me in his life in a way we really hadn’t approached before. Sure, we lived together and spent some weekends practically living in the same set of clothing, but somehow, this seemed more intimate than sleeping naked beside him.

He parked the truck and we walked up to the cathedral, his fingers laced through mine. I felt a brief flutter of panic in my chest: the building was huge and it had been a very, very long time since I’d set foot in a church. When I tripped a little, Jason paused and squeezed my fingers. “Doing okay?”

“No,” I whispered. I closed my eyes for a second and took a few slow, measured breaths until I felt steadier. “This is really new.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I know.” I squeezed his hand and smiled. It felt strained, but still real. “I want to.”

He smiled tentatively and we walked into the building. I followed him, let him go where he needed to. I watched curiously, took in the architecture, the familiar iconography and noticed the differences to my own Baptist upbringing. Jason found a place to sit and guided me to sit next to him, let me sit closer to the end so I could leave if I needed to. I leaned against him and he curled one arm around me, kissed the top of my head. “Still okay?” I nodded and smiled.

The service was beautiful. I found myself lost in a haze of mixed nostalgia and disorientation. Things were familiar, but not familiar and what wasn’t familiar was intensely alien. A Baptist service it was definitely not. I let myself drift in the sermon, only half listening and trying to keep myself occupied without seeming distracted. 

About halfway through the message, a thought crept into my mind that made me close my eyes.  _ You don’t belong here. You don’t deserve to be here. _ Invasive thoughts like these were a common feature of attending church for me, even when I was a child.  _ Guilty. Sinner. You don’t belong. _ I took a slow breath and focused on pushing the thoughts away. It didn’t matter. Of course I didn’t belong here. I was here as a visitor. Not a believer. 

My mind’s sucker punch came just as I was pushing all of the old garbage away:  _ You don’t deserve him. _ I gasped quietly and my eyes flashed open. I hadn’t meant to make a sound, but it came out of me faster than I could close my mouth around it. I whimpered.  _ You don’t deserve to be sitting next to him. Not ever. Not here, especially. _ Panic battered in my chest. 

“Hilde?” Jason’s voice was worried but gentle.

I gasped again and tried to swallow the panic. I was breathing shallowly, in little rushes of breath that I couldn’t control. I was losing control. I struggled to slow my breathing, tried desperately to calm down.  _ You don’t deserve to be here. Not with him. _

Jason’s hand spread against my lower back and he whispered, “Shhhh. It’s okay. I’m right here.” As I continued to struggle and gasp, he continued whispering to me, a low, rumbling string of assurance. Finally, his words penetrated the wild, spinning fog of my panic: “Nothing’s wrong. You’re safe here. Nothing can hurt you here. Not even you. You’re safe, Hilde. I’m right here.”

I took one more deep breath and felt it settle in my chest, spreading a sense of safety and wellbeing. When I opened my eyes and looked at him, Jason’s eyes were focused on my face, concerned. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he whispered. “It’s okay.” I sank my head against his shoulder and he curled his hand back around my hip, holding me close. He rocked a little and hushed me quietly until I relaxed. We stayed like that until the end of the service, at which point Jason leaned down and kissed the top of my head. “Better?”

“A little.”

“Do you need to go?” 

I smiled up at him. “Only if you’re done. If you want to stay, I’m fine.”

His eyes searched my face slowly, then he nodded. “I did want to say hi to a few people. If you’re okay to stay.” I squeezed his fingers and nodded with a smile. Jason stood up and tugged my hand. “Come with me?”

_ Anywhere _ , my mind whispered, but I didn’t say it aloud.

He guided me through the building, greeting people as he went with warm smiles and extended hands. He gravitated toward the elderly, so many of whom beamed at him when they saw him coming. Jason had a soft word for most of them, almost always in a language I didn’t recognize. When we had a brief moment of lull, I whispered, “How many languages do you speak, anyway?”

He chuckled, “Fluently? Just English. I’ve got enough Spanish to look stupid and enough Greek, Russian, and Czech to be friendly. And to swear.” An older woman in a bright blue dress that looked homemade rushed up to him and grabbed his hand before he could say anything else. Jason laughed and let her drag him a few steps away, leaving me by myself to skim over the pamphlets in the narthex. I heard him laugh several times with more genuine humor than most of the friendly conversation had elicited so far and I peeked up to see his face while he was talking. The woman appeared to be giving him a lecture that caused him to jam his hands into his pockets and shrug his shoulders, trying to look shorter. All the while, he grinned at her, occasionally putting in a word or two and then biting his lip when she overrode him enthusiastically. Finally, his face bloomed red and he sighed, putting one hand over his eyes. “Mama,” he said, but she interrupted him again and continued. 

“Next time!” she informed him loudly in accented English. 

Jason shook his head and edged away from her. “Mama, _ona ne moya zhena_.”

“Next time!” she repeated, wagging her finger at him. “Next time, I check!”

He chuckled and backed toward me. “Run,” he shot over his shoulder with a grin. “Quick. Before she corners us.”

“What the hell, Jason?” I giggled as I followed him at a quick trot out into the parking lot. “Are we running from your mother?”

“No,” he replied, a little defensively. “Everyone calls her ‘Mama.’”

“Ring!” shouted the little woman from the doorway, shaking her fist after him. “Next time, Iason!”

“Iason?” I asked him in amusement.

“Shut up and get in the truck,” he grumbled.

As he pulled the truck out of the parking lot and headed away, I grinned at him, “What did she say to you? What did you say to her? That didn’t sound like Spanish to me.”

“Russian,” he replied. He was blushing brilliantly and I giggled in spite of myself. “And ‘Iason’ is the Greek pronunciation. She thinks it sounds better than the hard /J/ sound.”

“You’re answering every question but the ones I’m actually asking,” I grinned.

He glared at me quickly, then returned his eyes to the road. “Mama’s the den mother for the whole congregation. She mother-hens over everyone. I think she misses her own kids and grandkids, so she takes it out on everyone else. I’ve picked up enough Russian to know that she was scolding me for not being married yet. Again.”

“What was the ‘next time’ about?”

To my great amusement, Jason’s face flamed even brighter red and he swallowed before answering. “She wants to see a ring on your finger the next time I bring you to church.”

I shifted in my seat to face him. “What?”

“I think it means she likes you.”

“Is that how they recruit converts in Greek Orthodox?” I giggled. “Accost all new visitors with demands of marriage to a regular attender?”

Jason’s eyes flicked to my face and he grinned a little. “I think this was a special case.”

“What do you mean?”

He cleared his throat. “Well. I have been Mama’s personal project for the last three years. She’s been trying to hook me up with every eligible widow, ecclesiastical divorcee, and unmarried girl of even vaguely marriageable age since I started coming. She claims I would make beautiful babies and she’s too old.” I sputtered and clapped a hand over my mouth to laugh. He grinned wider. “Thanks for that.”

I doubled over myself in giggles. “You’re welcome. How upset would she be if you got married and didn’t produce beautiful babies?”

“Probably very.” 

We rode in silence for a few minutes while I composed myself and Jason continued to grin. Once I had my game face on again, I sighed and rubbed my fingers through my hair. “I was even thinking for a minute that I wouldn’t mind going back. But if she’s going to attack me every time for not wearing jewelry, I just don’t think it’s going to work out.”

I looked up and saw that Jason was watching me out of the corner of his eye. “Seriously?” he asked softly.

I leaned back in my seat and thought about it. “Churches freak me out. Honestly.”

“I think I saw that.” He pulled the truck into the parking lot outside one of the larger buffett houses. As he killed the engine, Jason turned to face me. “What happened?”

“Panic attack,” I said. 

His eyes never left my face. “I’ve seen your panic attacks before, Hilde. That was different.” When I finally looked up at him, Jason reached across the space between us in the cab and slipped his fingers between mine. “Talk to me.”

I sighed and unbuckled my seatbelt. I crawled across the cab and into his arms. Jason held me close and kissed my forehead gently as I leaned against him, trying to sort out my thoughts. “Do you know what happens when you raise a kid with a biological disposition for anxiety in a highly restrictive, judgemental religious environment?”

“This sounds like the set-up for the worst joke ever.”

I chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, pretty much. That kid starts to associate the state of grace with anxiety.” I closed my eyes and tucked my face against his neck. “Trying to worship becomes a nightmare of second-guessing and paranoia. There is no such thing as ‘letting go and letting God’ because communion with God is tinged with constant self-doubt.” Jason stayed quiet and just slowly stroked my hair. “I want to,” I whispered. “That whole… body of Christ, community of the church. I want to feel that. But I can’t.”

Jason gently kissed my forehead. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t ask you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” I felt his lips smile against my skin. “Life’s too short to be uncomfortable.”

I exhaled and cuddled a little bit closer. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for being willing to try.” His fingers stroked through my hair again and he sighed. “That means a lot, all by itself.” 

“Jason, I don’t want to be--”

“Shhh.” He kissed my forehead again. “Whatever you’re thinking about, let it go. Right now.” I fell silent and just leaned against him with my eyes closed, listening to his voice through his chest. “I don’t want you to change on my account. Because I’m not changing, either. If you want to come with me, that’s fine and I’ll be happy for the company. But I’m not saying you have to.” He hugged me close. “I love you. Like this. Like yourself. So be yourself and I’ll be me.” When I peeked up at him, he grinned. “I’m not much good at being anyone else.”

“Me, neither,” I smiled. 

“You ready for lunch?” he murmured. 

I grinned, “Sure.”

 

Jason stole a strawberry off of my plate and asked, “What was your favorite subject in school?”

“Duh,” I replied and reached to sneak a pickle spear from his plate, “English. Favorite TV show growing up?”

“You’re not allowed to laugh.” He waved his fork at me and I grinned. “You laugh and I’m stealing your dessert.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine.” Carefully, I composed my face into an expression of polite interest and fixed my tongue firmly between my teeth to remind myself not to smile. 

Jason watched my expression for a moment, then looked down at his plate of buffet lasagna. “ _Lassie_.”

I choked. He glared. I finally managed to swallow the giggle and say, “I watched _Lassie_ growing up, too. They played reruns forever.”

“I think they’re still playing them,” he agreed and seemed pleased that I hadn’t laughed out right. “What about you?”

“I remember a lot of weird shows that used to play on Nickelodeon when I was a kid,” I grinned. “ _Today’s Special_ was one of my favorites. And _Pinwheel_. Once I was in school, it was _Animaniacs_ and _MacGyver_.”

“ _MacGyver_.” He raised one eyebrow. 

“I didn’t laugh at yours,” I snorted and he grinned.

“I’m not laughing.” Jason took another forkful of pasta and asked, “Did you learn anything?”

“Bubble gum and paperclips are important.” The front bell rang as more people came into the buffet and I glanced up instinctively. “And never go anywhere without a Swiss Army knife. I owned three by the time I was fourteen.” The group near the front seemed familiar and I paused to watch them. “Is that Mama?”

Jason craned his neck to follow my line of sight and sighed, “Shit. Yes.”

“Be nice,” I chuckled. “She only wants the best for you.”

He shot me an irritated look. “And vicarious grandbabies.”

“Grand nothing,” I giggled. “I think she wants vicarious babies.”

“Now I have to go over,” he sighed. “Or I’ll be a bad person.”

I grinned at him and stood up to kiss his cheek. “Get the check and I’ll distract her.”

The look that crossed his face mixed equal parts horror and pity. “Oh, hell, Hilde.”

“Don’t worry,” I grinned. “If I don’t know the language, there’s only so much she can tell me.”

“That is not what I’m worried about.”

I cupped his cheek and kissed him gently. “Go settle the bill, Jay. I’ll be fine.” He gave me a wary look, but nodded and kissed me back. I waited until he had started moving toward the register and then turned to approach the group from the church. 

“You!” Mama cried in delight when she saw me. “You are Iason’s girl.”

I blushed and smiled, “Yes, ma’am. I’m Hilde.”

“Very brave girl,” one of the men behind her muttered and Mama turned to glare at him. 

“Iason is good boy,” she informed him irritably.

“No, I mean for talking to you.” He grinned and she swatted at him with a half-smile of her own.

“Ian is good boy, too,” she said as she turned back to me. “Not know it sometimes, but he is.”

“John,” he sighed and rubbed his forehead. “My name is John.”

“Nice to meet you,” I giggled. 

“How you meet Iason?” Mama asked intently, then took my hand and studied my fingers. “And why no ring?”

I sighed and John put a hand on her shoulder, “Mama, give her a break. You literally just met her.”

“I am curious,” she shot back with a sniff.

I quietly reclaimed my hand and found myself rubbing the left-hand ring finger. “I was married before,” I told her. 

“Pssh,” she said and waved a hand while John winced. “Too young for such. You try again.” 

John looked at me warily, then glared at Mama. “Mama…”

“It true,” she shot back. “Too young.” She paused and looked at my expression, then softened. “Divorce too common. Too hurt.” She took my hands and held them. “Iason, he take care of you. Not hurt.”

“It wasn’t a divorce, Mama.” Jason’s voice came from behind me and I looked back. I hadn’t expected to get this tangled up in the conversation, but seeing him there let out some of the tightness in my chest. He pulled me closer and wrapped his arms around me from behind, let his chin rest on top of my head. “I see you’ve met Hilde.”

Mama looked at Jason, then at me and I could see understanding dawning in her face. “Oh. _Prosti_.” She took my hands and kissed them quickly, her eyes sad. _“Moya oshibka izvinite._ ”

“It’s okay, Mama. But that’s why.” Jason’s arms tightened gently around me. 

I found myself frowning and looking at him upside-down. He didn’t look at me, his attention still focused on the elderly woman. Mama squeezed my hands again and smiled, “No worry, Hildy. We take care of you. We all. Come back soon. Okay?” 

I blinked, opened my mouth, then paused when Jason hugged me a little tighter. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “You don’t have to.”

I thought about it, then smiled and tapped the backs of his hands lightly until he let me go. I stepped forward and embraced Mama. “Thank you,” I whispered. “That means a lot to me.”

She hugged me tightly. “Come again soon,” she repeated, then released me as she and the others went to take their seats. She waved to me with a warm, motherly smile.

Jason and John exchanged nods and smiles before we left to head for the truck. “You okay?” he asked me gently.

“Yeah.” I thought about it and then smiled. “I really am.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I don't go into detail, there is allusion to sex and some explicit conversation. Moderately NSFW.

Jason let out a long, spiralling groan and pressed his face deeper into the pillow. I grinned and worked my thumbs into the muscles of his back, finding the worst of the knots and smoothing them out. “Where the hell did you learn that?” he mumbled.

I shifted my hips back so I could reach his lower back more easily. “A friend taught me in high school. And my mom gave me pointers for shoulders. She was always tight.” I leaned my knuckles against the tight spot I found in his lower back and he grunted sharply. “Sorry. Too much?”

“No. Feels awesome.”

I kept working my fingers into his muscles, tracing the lines of his back, using my hands to listen to what hurt and what needed stretching. It was a Friday morning, but I was on shift for the weekend at the library, so I had the day off. Jason had wrapped up his last few cases for the week and had turned his phone off and hidden it. As I leaned my weight against the heels of my hands to run up either side of his spine, Jason groaned again. “I love knowing I’m doing well,” I grinned, leaning close to his ear. 

He turned his head toward my voice and smiled. “Babe, you are straddling my butt naked and rubbing my back. There is no way for that to be bad.” 

“I could weigh fifty pounds more,” I said. “And my hands could be cold.”

Jason used his hips to twist himself around onto his back and caught my wrists. “They aren’t, though.” He pulled me down to his chest and kissed me soundly. “And I’m sturdy enough for fifty extra pounds on my back.”

I let out a long sigh and sank down against him. “How about on your front?”

His hands roamed comfortably along my back and hips. “Are you planning on gaining weight?”

“No,” I grinned and kissed his neck. “But it’d be good to know if weight gain is a problem.”

Jason smiled at me. “It’s not.” 

“Weight loss?”

“Still not.” He curled his hand into my hair and pulled me down to kiss me again. “Healthy, happy. Safe.” His lips brushed mine thoughtfully. “That’s what I want.” 

“Is that all?” I grinned and shifted my hips. 

Jason pursed his lips and grunted quietly. “You want to ruin all the good you did with that backrub?”

“I can always give you another one.” I arched my eyebrows. “Are you saying sex hurts your back?”

“No,” he said quickly and his hands tightened on my hips. When I leaned to kiss him again, Jason’s hands wandered up my lower back and down over my butt. “I’m definitely not saying that.”

“Sure?” I whispered, teasing his lips with my tongue. 

“Very.” He shifted his hips and pushed up against me, his tongue caught between his teeth and a gleeful expression on his face. “See? I’m fine.” I flopped against his shoulder with a soft moan and he laughed. 

“Fine indeed,” I mumbled against his neck. I nipped him gently and smiled at his sudden intake of breath. I kissed my way up his neck and teased his ear with my teeth, enjoying his reaction. 

“You’re terrible,” he whispered and turned his head to catch my lips with his. When I melted against him, he tangled his fingers in my hair and lifted his hips again. His erection pressed against me and I shivered. 

“Condom,” I gasped.

Jason chuckled and I felt him reaching for the bedside table. “Working on it.” Then, he paused and his face changed. He patted the table and frowned. “The fuck?” I looked up, my glasses smeared enough that it was hard to see clearly. 

“What is it?” I asked, rocking back to sit up.

Together, we leaned over to look for the condoms. The string had fallen on the floor, but as soon as I saw it, I groaned. “Shit.”

“I’m going to kill that cat.” 

“You won’t either.” 

“No,” he sighed. “I won’t.” Jason reached down and picked up the mangled pair of condoms, the wrappers full of holes from feline teeth. “Were there more in the box?”

“I think those were the last ones.” I chewed my lip sheepishly. “We need more.”

Jason sighed and dropped the condoms on the floor again. “Damn it.”

“Don’t worry,” I said and kissed his cheek. “There are other ways.” Before he could react, I started kissing my way down his chest and wriggled down under the sheet. 

“Hilde, wait,” he gasped when I reached his stomach. “You don’t--”

I lifted my head and looked up at him from under the tented sheet. “Have to? Do I look like anyone’s forcing me?” I grinned and dropped another kiss on the curve of his hip. “I happen to enjoy your body. I’m allowed to, right?” He groaned when I let my fingers curl around the base of his erection. 

“Yes,” he breathed and I felt him relax back against the pillows. 

“Good.”

 

His back arched and Jason growled something inarticulate as he finally came into my mouth. When he’d relaxed again, I swallowed and cleaned him up with short little licks before sliding back up to snuggle next to him. “You didn’t--”

“Have to.” I finished and kissed his shoulder. “I know. To be really honest, I enjoy it.”

Jason struggled to take a breath, then looked over at me. “Really?” I nodded with a smile. “Well, damn. You’re welcome to any time.” He chuckled and let his head drop back against the pillow. He pulled me close and I settled my head onto his shoulder, curling my fingers against his chest. “I feel utterly selfish,” he murmured.

I grinned. “Don’t. Vicarious orgasm is a thing.”

“If you’re sure.” He took another long breath and hugged me close. “Don’t wanna leave you out.” 

“I’m good,” I whispered with a smile. “I don’t need as much.”

Jason opened one eye to glare at me. “You calling me needy?”

“Horny, maybe,” I grinned and he hit me with the extra pillow. I tried to swat it away and giggled when he grabbed me around the waist and dragged me over to the other side of the bed. He pinned me down against the mattress and kissed me until I stopped giggling and curled my arms around his neck.

Jason paused to study my face then, his dark eyes thoughtful. Slowly, he dipped his head and kissed me again, tracing my lips with the tip of his tongue. “You sure you don’t need anything else?” His voice was a low rumble and I found a blush rising to my cheeks, as if we hadn’t been tangled together naked almost every night for months. “I enjoy your body, too, you know.” His hand started to slide down my side.

“Wait,” I gasped softly and put one hand over his. He stopped and lifted his head to meet my eyes, questioning. I carefully laced my fingers through his and broke eye contact, still aware of the bright blush on my cheeks. 

“Hilde,” he whispered and shifted to lie beside me. “What is it?”

“Just feeling… body shy.”

Jason stroked my face gently. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

I shook my head. “It’s not your fault. It comes and goes.” I hugged myself a little and tried to smile at him, but it didn’t quite reach my eyes. 

“Six months,” he whispered. “I’ve been watching you wander around next to naked for six months and you’ve never been like this. What’s wrong, babe?” His fingers touched my hair and I flinched a little. When I let my eyes find his face, something deep in my chest ached with the look of worry in his eyes. 

I tucked my chin and rolled closer to him, buried my face in the hollow of his neck. Carefully, Jason wrapped his arms around me and rubbed my back. “I think it’s the anxiety,” I whispered. “I just… I’d rather focus on you, making you feel good. Anything else scares me right now.”

“Okay.” He gently kissed my forehead, lingering there. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. Life’s too short.” When I smiled and peeked up at him, he was smiling back at me. “You want to get up? Get some lunch?”

“I was thinking another round of twenty questions and a pizza, maybe.”

“Sounds good to me. Order in?”

“I’ve got a crust in the freezer from last weekend still.”

Jason leaned in and kissed me soundly. “I knew I loved you.” He paused with one palm against my cheek, his thumb stroking my skin. “Take your time getting up, if you need to.” He waited until I smiled at him, then he kissed me once more and slid out of the bed. “I’m going to run out for ice cream. Need anything?”

“Nefret’s down to one can of wet food,” I said, rubbing my hands over my face. I could hear him getting dressed, then added, “Could you… do you mind wearing the grey henley?” Jason chuckled and I felt him tap my foot, so I opened my eyes. He was wearing the shirt already. I bit my lip and grinned. “Thank you.”

“Textures,” he smiled. “I didn’t forget.” He walked around the bed and leaned down to kiss me while I ran my hands over his chest. “And I was still hoping for a cuddle later. Best way to get that is to wear something soft.” He stroked my face lightly and smiled. “Still not sure if you love me or my clothes.”

“They aren’t mutually exclusive,” I purred and kissed him.

He chuckled and nosed my face lightly. “I give you permission to wear any of my clothes you feel like. Just for today.” 

“Like you’ve ever been able to stop me before.”

“True.” Jason grinned. “I’m just giving you permission this time. See you in a few.” 

I watched as he waved over his shoulder and headed out toward the front door. I decided to spend a few more minutes staring at the ceiling before getting up. Nefret hopped up and walked across my stomach, then circled to sniff my chest and give me a filthy glare. “Yes, I’m sorry,” I told her. “I smell like sex.” I exhaled toward her and watched as her whiskers arched and she sniffed my breath. Her ears went back and she sneezed once before jumping down and stalking away. I grinned. 

I got up slowly. I brushed my teeth. I washed my face and hunted through Jason’s dresser until I found one of the older brushed cotton shirts that had been through the wash a few million times. It was threadbare and he usually only wore it as a nightshirt. I wiggled into it without bothering to put on a bra, then put a pair of my own flannel pajama pants on. As much as I was tempted to steal his, he was skinnier than I was and my feet would get lost in the extra length of the legs. I wandered into the apartment and studied it for a minute. 

Jason’s apartment was definitely a step up from my own, even if having two of us living in it made the process of keeping it tidy that much more difficult. There were two dirty wine glasses on the coffee table and an empty pizza box. At least, I thought it was empty until I picked it up to throw it away: there were two pieces still inside. “Oops,” I mumbled and tapped one on its edge. It was as hard as the cardboard box. I wondered when we’d ordered out for pizza last. I threw the box and the semi-mummified pizza into the garbage and set the wine glasses by the sink to remind myself to wash them--sometime in the next week or so. 

I took the frozen pizza crust out of the freezer and put it on a pan before sticking it into the oven and starting the preheat cycle. The cycle would be enough to thaw the crust so I could top it. While the oven heated, I took out cheese, sauce, and pepperoni. As I considered, I wondered if Jason had gone to an actual grocery store or if he’d just stopped at a gas station. I pulled out my phone to text him:  _ Could you get mushrooms? _

Much to my amusement, his phone chimed from somewhere under the couch. “So much for mushrooms,” I sighed to myself. I finished dressing the pizza when the crust was thawed, then put the pizza in and went fishing under the couch for Jason’s phone. He’d want it eventually. 

The phone chimed with a text as I pulled it out again and I glanced at the face. Alicia Florrick had texted simply, “Call me.” I let my lips press together and then put the phone face down on the counter. We had talked about Alicia. I knew about their time together, even by name now. I knew that about half of Jason’s business came from law offices like the one Alicia worked for. I poured myself a quarter of a glass of wine and sipped at it while I leaned on the counter, waiting for the pizza to finish baking and for Jason to come home. 

I knew better than to worry about Alicia Florrick. I knew better than to worry about any of Jason’s previous relationships. I trusted him and knew that he wouldn’t have invited me into his life if he didn’t want me there. I felt a flutter of paranoia in the back of my mind, though, and I glared at nothing in particular. I checked the pizza and returned to lean on the counter. Nefret wandered into the kitchen and mewled at me insistently. “Not right now, baby,” I told her and crouched to pet her.

With the cat winding around my ankles, I finished my wine and rotated the pizza pan 180 degrees. Just as I was taking it out of the oven and sliding it onto the cutting board, the door opened and Jason came back in carrying a few plastic bags. “God, it smells good in here,” he announced as he kicked off his shoes. He put one bag in the freezer and the others on the counter, then sniffed over the pizza. “Mmm.” 

“What’cha get?” I asked him, curling my arms around his waist. 

“Fudge core,” he said, “and the tuna shreds she likes.” He turned around and gathered me into a hug. “Feeling better?”

“A little,” I smiled, then leaned sideways to look at the bags. “Is there wine in that bag?”

Jason chuckled, “Yes, there is. There was a Cab Sav at the counter that sounded like you might like it.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “Do you want to open the wine or cut the pizza?”

“I always pinch my fingers in the corkscrew,” I admitted sheepishly and went to get the pizza cutter.

“I’m still not sure how you manage that.” He retrieved the corkscrew from the drawer and started opening the bottle of wine. As I sliced the pizza, Jason paused and I heard him sliding the phone across the counter. “This thing is cursed to follow me around.”

“I tried to text you for mushrooms,” I told him as I put the pizza cutter in the sink. “I pulled it out.” When I turned to look, Jason was staring at the face of the phone with a tight look on his face. He put the phone down very deliberately, then forced a small smile. “Alicia texted,” I said softly.

Jason’s smile faltered and he sighed. “You checking my phone now?”

“It was in my hand,” I replied without looking at him. When he didn’t speak, I turned back to glare at him. “Jason, I trust you. I’m not worried about Alicia Florrick.” He wasn’t looking at me, his hands shoved into his pockets. I stepped until I could look up into his face, then waited until he met my eyes. “I’m not worried. I know you. If you want something, you’re not going to hide it.”

With a long sigh, Jason reached and cupped my face with his hands. “I don’t want Alicia.”

“I know,” I said. 

He closed his eyes. There was more pain there in his face than I think he realized, so I just waited, leaning my cheek against his hand. Finally, he leaned down and kissed me. “I don’t.”

“What do you want?” I whispered.

“You.”

I stood on my toes and leaned against his chest. “Are you sure? I’m not much.”

Jason looked at me, one hand stroking my cheek. “Hilde, you’re everything.” His smile was sad. “I wish you understood that.” 

I smiled and shook my head. I turned away and went to get fresh glasses down from the cupboard. Jason’s arms slipped around my waist when I reached and he pulled me back against his chest. “I mean that,” he whispered in my ear. I hugged his arms a little and held still while he nuzzled my neck. After a moment, his breath warmed my ear again, “If I left Chicago, would you come with me?”

Puzzled, I looked up at him. “What?”

“I…” He twisted his lips and actually looked like he was having trouble putting his thoughts into words. “Sometimes I can’t take it anymore, being someplace. And I have to go. Just… go. Without planning. Or any kind of idea where I’m going. Sometimes I come back. But sometimes I don’t.” His eyes searched my face. “Would you come with me? If I did that?”

“Jason,” I started, feeling utterly lost. “I just wanted some pizza.”

He ducked his head and laughed, shaking his head. “I’m serious, Hilde. I know this sounds weird. But I’m not good at… being sometimes. I get--”

“Restless.” 

His head came up and he met my eyes, looking surprised. “Yes.”

I cupped his face and smiled at him. “Like everything’s too close. And there’s nowhere you feel like yourself.”

“Yes.”

“Like every time you see an off-ramp, you feel like randomly taking that road without knowing where you’ll end up. Just going because it’s there.”

A light came into his eyes and he stared at me like he was afraid to hope. “Yes.”

I stood on my toes and kissed him. “The cat and I are a packaged deal.”

“Does she travel well?”

“Surprisingly so.”

I could feel that he was actually trembling a little. His hands shook and it was almost as if I could feel his heartbeat through his chest. “So… you’ll come.”

“I will.” I smiled at him and leaned up to kiss him again. 

“No warning, just… up and go.”

“I will. Every time.”

He pressed his forehead against mine and exhaled. “We might not come back.”

“That’s okay.”

“We might come back.”

“That’s okay, too.”

Jason found my mouth again and held me tightly against him as he kissed me. “Have you ever thought about getting married again?”

I threw my head back and laughed. “Zero to sixty much?”

He grinned, almost looking embarrassed. “I’m serious. Marry me. I’ll go where you go. You go where I go. We’ll fuck up together and go wherever we want.” I held very still and watched him, stunned and he stroked my face slowly. “Marry me, Hilde.”

I felt dizzy. Giddy. Wild.

But there was no question about my answer.

“Yes.”


	10. Epilogue

“Crouse Investigators,” I murmured, looking at the business card. Jason chuckled behind me, his arms around my waist. “Seems a bit much, doesn’t it?”

“Hardly,” he grinned into my hair. “This way, they’re getting the services of the chief investigator, rather than the only investigator. And I can route all my bookkeeping calls to your cell instead.”

“Lovely.” I stuck my tongue out at him. “Nice of you to sidestep my social anxiety by making me answer the phone all the time.”

“It’s professional,” he reminded me, chasing my tongue. “You’re fine answering professionally.”

“Thank you for calling Crouse Investigators, this is Hilde, how can I help you?” I considered, then nodded. “Yeah, I suppose I can.”

Jason spun me around in his arms and leaned down to kiss me soundly. “If it bothers you, we can still change it,” he whispered, then kissed my forehead. “And the rest of this is just formality. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I grinned brightly and stood on my toes to kiss him back. 

A woman a little older than Jason came down the hallway and smiled at us, offering her hand. “Jason, we’re ready for you.”

“Diane,” he smiled and shook her hand. “This is my wife, Hilde.”

“Wife.” The lawyer blinked in surprise, then regarded me and offered me her hand as well. “Of course. How nice to meet you, Hilde. I’m Diane Lockhart.”

“It’s a pleasure, Ms. Lockhart,” I smiled and shook her hand. 

She escorted us into her office and closed the door, all the while giving Jason questioning looks which only made him smirk. I did my best not to grin. It was hard. He was enjoying this entirely too much. “How can we help you, Jason? Hilde?”

“We’re organizing a professional partnership,” Jason said. “We’d like you to handle the paperwork.” He paused, then glanced at me with a slow grin. “And, as an aside, I’d like to talk to you about changing my contact information and renegotiating my fee.”

Diane looked like she’d swallowed a bug, but did her best to hide it with a smile. “Of course.”

Jason pushed across to her the new billing information, set up in the new company name and under my cell phone as the “office” number. “And here’s our salary requirements.”

When she looked at the number, Diane’s head snapped back up, “Jason, this is--”

“I have employees to pay now,” he interrupted her calmly. “And we have to pay for access to some of the databases we’ll be using for research.” 

She stared at him for a moment, fuming. “I’ll have to discuss the change with the other partners before I can agree. I’m sure you know that.”

“I completely understand,” Jason nodded agreeably. “How soon will that paperwork be finished?”

“I should have it done by tomorrow,” she replied. “I’ll call you… your office when it’s ready.”

“Thank you.” Jason stood up and extended his hand across the desk to her. “I really appreciate everything Diane.” 

“My pleasure, Jason,” she smiled tightly and shook his hand. She offered her hand to me and I shook it as well. “Hilde.”

As we got up to leave, Diane added in an undertone, “You’re still planning on freelance, Jason?”

“That is the plan.”

“Non-exclusive.”

“Yup.” He turned back to look at her, his eyebrows raised. 

Diane looked from him to me and back again. “Still keeping your options open, I see.”

Jason’s hand curled gently around my hip and he squeezed me closer. “Not that open,” he grinned. “Have a good day, Diane.”

“You, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! You guys are awesome.
> 
> If anyone's interested, I intend to write more one-shots with Jason and Hilde. I love writing them and I hope you've enjoyed reading them.


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